The news that Poppy is a second-year puts the initiates on edge. She was never one of them. She wasn't supposed to be. Her funeral passes and none of them attend. After all, none of them knew her, as far as anyone can tell. They are still trying not to draw suspicion upon themselves.

No one even knows where the funeral will be. It could be here or in Poppy's hometown, but where is she from? The woman was an enigma, intentionally, and now it seems that all the information she safeguarded has been lost.

The initiates decide to gather together off-campus, in a park in the closest town. It is a Saturday, still less than a week since they've killed Poppy. The morning of, they each find a letter from The Divide. It calls for an indefinite pause on the initiation process. It's the first communication they've had since the fire. No one is called to be on probation for their parts that night.

There is no time to think, they must be off.

They take separate cabs, bringing picnic blankets, snacks, and wine to drink. Few passersby will venture in the grass, as it is wet in late October. Most stick to the path, far away from where the initiates will sit. If anyone were watching, they'd be able to see the gathering. The initiates hide in plain sight, hoping not to be found.

Luis, as always, is the last to arrive. By the time he steps foot on the grass, waving good-bye to the taxi driver, the others have already begun to join each other.

"Luis," Kai gets up and races over, dragging Luis into a spot next to him. "It's been a while. How are you doing?"

"Great," Luis likes being close to him. "Never better."

Since he is the last to arrive, Luis doesn't know that Kai was there first, and he has greeted everyone with such fervour. Consequently, Luis feels his heart swell. Kai looks more handsome than ever, in his rugby jacket and khakis. When Kai doesn't try, he looks his best.

"Excellent," Kai says, beginning to take a sip on his glass of wine. He wishes for something stronger but doesn't say as much. He looks over the others, trying to get a better read on them.

His eyes land on Roman, who is plunged into several photocopies of different articles written on the morality of killing in self-defence. They know only Ez would bother to ask about the contents of their pages, and Roman still hasn't decided if lying to Ez would be okay. They cannot stop reading. Whenever they stop, their mind races. It is a peculiar thing to think without end. It agitates the mind. Roman perpetually has a headache. They have slept a told of six hours over the past week. Their fingers are callused from stroking pages, less like a lover than one might expect.

Next to Roman sits Jetta, who is talking to Tom. Both of them hide themselves well from the other. Tom is a skilled actor and Jetta is a chameleon.

"I think, that musicals are fine enough," Tom says. "I'm not going on broadway anytime soon, but I suppose it has its merits. Though I'm a stage actor, I rather prefer film as a medium."

"Movie musicals are all terrible," Jetta argues. "They've got no soul. The live ones are better, at least. They've got some interesting rock musicals though."

"I do not understand how you can stand to play the violin," Tom laughs, soullessly.

Across from them, Evelyn's ears perk up. She plays the violin; she has since she was very little. She considers interrupting their conversation, but she thinks it might be rude. Instead, she turns to Felix.

"Are you excited for the ball?" she asks. "On Halloween?"

It's all she's been thinking about for weeks. Other than murder, naturally.

Felix nods, "the dancers get a song to themselves."

"Like a flash mob?" Ez snorts beside Felix.

Felix scrunches his nose. He looks over at the boy, who's got the quirk of a wicked grin on his face. Sometimes, Felix can stand Ez. They cooperate well. They compete even better.

"No," Felix says. "It's not like a flash mob because everyone expects it to happen."

"I'm sure it'll be lovely," Evelyn offers her smile wide. She is sure that Felix is fantastic at what he does. They all are.

Felix looks at her. Actually looks at her. He has let his eyes pass over her for far too long. Her beauty is overwhelming, all-encompassing. It fills him like a meal he will never eat again. He doesn't know of her relationship with Kai, how could he? He is just shocked it took this long for him to notice her.

Ez rolls his eyes at the two of them. He can see where this is going, from their flushed cheeks to their locked eyes. How anyone can think about love when they are in the midst of getting away with murder is beyond him.

Briar and Ellie sit together, with not much to say between the two of them. They haven't really spoken since that night. For Briar, it may be unfair, but Ellie serves as a reminder for some terrible, horrid things. Ellie, meanwhile, is frightened of Briar. Of how quickly she has watched her switch from kind and sweet to her call for Poppy's death.

It feels like Briar is not who she once seemed.

"You've been really quiet, Vieira," Ellie points out. "You good?"

Vieira doesn't want to speak. Ever again. Especially not to these monstrous creatures which surround her. She puts on a smile, thinking about the next drawing she is going to do. It'll be of one woman, trying to claw her way out of ten different hands. Pulling her down. Vieira can visualize it in her head now.

It could be a truly good piece.

Getting the cold shoulder from Vieira, Ellie is quiet. She looks at the others and sighs. Besides Luis, she isn't sure how many friends she has among the others. Roman looks lonely. Ellie debates going over.

Kai puts a piece of cutlery to the side glass. The ringing sound cuts short the conversations of the others. He realizes the glass he is holding is one of the same ones from the night they did in Poppy. His grip tightens.

"So, by now you've all heard the news," Kai says. "She was a second year."

He doesn't dare speak her name.

"She was in The Divide, then?" Jetta asks, looking at no one but Kai. She won't admit it to the others, but she holds him nearly entirely responsible for what went down. It was his suggestion, after all. His words got them buried nearly as deep as Poppy.

"Of course she was," Briar says. "What else would make sense?"

Roman still hasn't put their articles down. They don't dare look up. What does it matter, if she was not their equal? Is it more moral? Doubtful. Their quest for the answer is unsatiable.

Evelyn plays with the grass. She doesn't want to talk about the murder anymore. It's better to pretend it never happened. She looks over at Kai and realizes he hasn't looked at her yet this entire picnic. He's doing a really good job of keeping them a secret from Jetta.

That would explain how Poppy knew about the Adderall, Ellie reflects. It would explain everything. "So, we have them to worry about as well?"

"We have nothing to worry about," Luis tries to stay relaxed, leaning back on his hands. He can feel a twig in the dirt digging into his palm, but he doesn't move.

Tom swallows, "won't they come after us for killing one of their members?"

"We are members," Kai reminds the others. He takes a sip of his wine, hoping to appear more casual than he actually feels. These moments are the important ones.

"We're initiates," Ez knows the agreement was for himself and Felix to have Kai's back no matter what, but he likes a little push and pull. "At least, we were before that letter."

Felix glares his way. He reaches forward for some water, intentionally brushing past Evelyn's leg. He gets a chill up his spine. She's so wonderful. She is the only thing in all of his insanity that helps him cling to the earth. She's not gravity; gravity would be more secure. He could float away at any moment if she abandoned him.

"I'm sure it's fine," Ellie says, sure of no such thing. She wants to prove her loyalty. She is surrounded by killers, perhaps the most pathologically villainous group of people she will ever have both the pleasure and displeasure of meeting.

It doesn't occur to her that she is one of them.

"It's clearly not fine," Jetta interrupts them.

Vieira can feel herself losing the feeling in her fingers. She's not getting better, but the symptoms are easier to notice. She gets up and walks over to the tree, stepping behind it. There, she gets on the ground and curls up into a ball.

Everyone waits for someone else to leave them and chase after her. They all have been too tired of caring for themselves to take care of others. The murder was heavy, the constant violence is draining. Classes are just the tip of the iceberg.

Evelyn gets up. She wraps her way around the tree and kneels next to Vieira. She takes the girl's hand in hers and their fingers intertwine. Vieira squeezes as tightly as possible. From their position, they can still hear the voices of the others.

"They must know what happened to her," Ez points out.

"We'd already be dead if they wanted us dead," Briar insists.

This is beginning to get out of Kai's control. He wanted there to be some debate, to have the illusion that everyone has an equal voice, but with Ez turning on them, his grip is slipping. He plasters a melancholic look on his face and puts down his empty glass.

"We are in the clear," Kai points out. "The Divide would have come after us already, we have no other ties to that girl. We get to relax."

"We could still lose our spots at school," Tom keeps his voice steady even though it wants to shake. "They could kick us out."

"So long as she's dead, we are completely safe," Felix leans backwards so that he lies on the glass, resting his hands behind his head.

Vieira begins to calm down. She lets go of Evelyn's hand and returns to sit with the others. She isn't sure what she should do. If she were to reveal the compatriots, surely both her and her father's careers would be over. There would be scandal and paparazzi, and she'd have to talk publically at a trial. It is better to keep herself shut up.

The discussion seems to filter out. People taste the cheese and grapes and wine on their lips. They do not laugh, but they discuss. Poppy does not slip their minds; she never could. They distract themselves with discussions of Shakespeare and Tchaikovsky and Freud and other men that have impacted their lives.

Roman is too buried in their notes to concentrate.

~~~~~

Welp. Just welp. I enjoyed this quite a bit. Normal but slipping. I only have one more chapter pre-written. I don't even know what to say I'm so sad that I'm nowhere near done with the rest of the book. No matter.

Do you have any predictions that could help me?