6.

I fumble for words but they don't come. The guard's harsh glare stumps me. She has grey hair and hard eyes, the kind that reminds me of Cynthia, Darius' mum and the woman who took Elias. She puts her hands on my shoulders and shakes me.

"Answer me, girl."

"I-I-uh-I'm here to see the hollower."

She narrows her eyes. "Malik didn't say nothing 'bout no visitors."

It's hard to maintain eye contact, but I refuse to look away. I'm not that person anymore—the one who submits at any sign of authority. I can't be.

"Eric sent me," I say, trying to shake her iron-like grin. "He wanted me to ask her a few questions."

"Prove it."

Before I can say anything, Bastian emerges from the bush behind her, expression uncharacteristically serious. "What seems to be the problem here?"

The guard turns to look him up and down. "And you are?"

"I don't believe we've met." He puffs out his chest and offers her his hand. "I'm Eric."

I hold in a snort. Like Eric would be polite enough to shake someone's hand. Eric and Bastian could not be any different, both physically and mentally. But it's unlikely she's met Eric face to face yet. Underneath the blazing sun, sweat gathers on Bastian's forehead as she examines him. Finally, her grip on my shoulders loosens. "Go on then."

Bastian shoots me a look and I shove the door open, closing it quickly behind us before the guard changes her mind. Inside, it's dark and dingy. The only natural light creeps through gaps in the wooden walls, and the air wafts with the steel scent of blood. I cough into my elbow, finding Bastian's sleeve to grip. His eyes find mine, the glow providing little light. That's when I see her. In the corner, there's a figure hunched over. I step closer. Long, curly hair hangs over her face. Her limbs are tied to the chair she sits on. She doesn't look much older than me. Through the curtain of hair, eyes peer at us, wide and feral.

A shudder runs down my spine. She's supposed to be the enemy. And yet, she looks just like Bastian and me. How am I supposed to see her as a monster when she doesn't look like one?

"Hi," I say hesitantly, my voice no more than a whisper. She watches me carefully as I step closer, seemingly unafraid. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."

"Are you with them?" Her voice is croaky and dry.

Bastian and I exchange glances. I don't know what to say. Malik and his men are the ones holding her hostage, but I'm not so sure she'd be more likely to offer us information either.

"Uh, no?"

She presses her lips together and looks away, hatred in her eyes. The slither of light creeping through the wind flickers across her arm, revealing the blood smeared across her cheek. Despite the warm air, I shudder.

"Maybe I can help you get free," I say, "if you just try to listen and help." Silence. I continue anyway. "Where are you from?" Nothing. "You're immortal. How did you get that way?"

She doesn't even blink. The cabin isn't hot, but sweat beads on my forehead.

"She's useless," Bastian says, his tone filled with disgust, "maybe we should go."

I can't stop staring at her, trying to understand what he sees. Her hair hangs limps and greasy, her skin is caked with dirt and dried blood. But somewhere, she has a family, friends, emotions. Being a hollower doesn't make her immune to those things. I can't see her as a monster because she isn't one.

Standing in front of this immortal hollower, Elias feels closer than ever before. His blood runs through her system and it's like I can feel his presence—like a dream I could read out and take hold of. "I'm looking for someone and I-I think you might know where he is," I say. "His name is Elias, but you probably know him as the wisper, and he—" Her eyes flash with recognition. I step forward, breath hitching. "You know him."

A chill trickles down my spine at the haunted look on her face. She's seen him. I grab her arm. "Please. If you help me I'll—"

She spits in my face. Bastian grabs my elbows to pull me backward as I blink at her in shock. "We should go," he says lowly.

"She knows him, Bastian. She knows where he is and if—"

"Milena. She's not going to help us." We stare at each other, his usually light eyes so serious. But before I can respond, a small voice fills the room.

"Your name is Milena?"

We both snap our heads towards her. Her entire demeanor has changed—curiosity flickers through her eyes. Interest.

Bastian and I exchange looks. "How do you know who I am?" I ask.

"Milena!"

Dread fills my stomach at the sound of an intruder. A second later, the door is ripped off its hinges, and Eric fumes in the doorway, the light behind him giving him a terrifying silhouette. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Uh, an interrogation?" Bastian jokes. Eric's glare quickly wipes the smile off his face.

"Outside, now." He turns and storms into the forest.

Bastian shoots me a sheepish look. "Think he'll notice if we just make a run for it?"

I try for a smile but it's weak. We both knew coming here was wrong, we knew Eric would be mad if he found out. But it was worth the risk. His temper doesn't scare me as much as it used to, and yet, my hands shake as we meet him outside. The sun is blinding; both Bastian and I squint as our eyes adjust to the brightness.

Eric's not alone. Malik stands behind a pacing Eric, his arms crossed as he leans against the tree.

I take a step forward. "I know you're mad but she was tied up and she wasn't going to hurt us—"

"Why do you keep doing things you're not supposed to do?" he snaps. "And dragging that idiot into it, too."

"Hey," Bastian says, "it was partly my idea, too."

"Get out of here, Bastian. Aliyah needs help with training, where you were supposed to be."

Bastian offers an apologetic smile before skittering off into the woods. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry, Eric, but she knows where Elias is. I was just trying—"

"Trying to help," he finishes, just as Cassia arrives, hair blown out like she's been running. "That's all you're ever trying to do and yet you somehow screw things up every single time."

My mouth dries up as distant feelings rush back. Inadequacy. Uselessness. Not being good enough.

"Eric," Cassia scolds, "that's not fair."

"It's true! Every single thing I tell her not to do she does anyway. Every time I tell her to do something she doesn't do it!" He paces. "You're always doing the wrong thing and it makes our messes bigger. You're one second away from getting yourself killed and Elias' sacrifice will be all for nothing."

The words hang in the air like thick smoke, choking me. I became unafraid of his attitude a while ago, but these words have nothing to do with mood and all to do with his thoughts.

When nobody says anything, Cassia puts a hand on Eric's arm. "Stop it, Eric. That's enough."

"Is that what you think?" My voice is ice cold as I stare at him. "That this is all my fault?"

When Eric looks at me, his anger falters. "That's not what I meant—"

"It's what you said."

"Milena—"

I don't hear anything else because I spin around and disappear in the trees.

~

DISCUSSION:

1. Do you think what Eric said is fair?

2. How do you think the hollower knows who Milena is?

3. What do you think might happen next?