Glass was staring at him, but it was no longer with confusion. “Wells,” she said slowly, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth, “is there something you’re not telling me?”

He gave her a sidelong look. “Yes, there’s obviously a ton I haven’t told you yet. There was this terrible attack, and a fire, and then people started getting sick, and you’ll never guess what happened when—”

“No,” she said, cutting him off. “Something you’re not telling me about these Earthborns. Or maybe one in particular?”

“What? No.” He was usually pretty adept at hiding his thoughts, but something about Glass’s tone made his cheeks redden.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “There’s a girl. An Earth girl.” Her voice was equal parts shock and delight.

“You’re crazy. There’s no Earth—” He cut himself off with a smile and shook his head. “How could you possibly have known that?”

Glass reached out and squeezed his arm. “You can’t keep secrets from me, Wells Jaha. It was the way you were talking about these inspiring Earthborns. You had the same look on your face that you got when you used to talk about Clarke.” Her expression grew less playful as her brow furrowed. “Does that mean you two broke up? What happened?”

Wells sighed. “It’s a long story, but I’m fine.” He smiled, thinking about the previous evening, lying with his head in Sasha’s lap as they stared up at the stars. “More than fine, actually. I can’t wait for you to meet Sasha.”

“Sasha,” Glass repeated, seeming slightly disappointed that it wasn’t a more exotic name. “Where is she?”

Before Wells could reply, a tall boy in a guard’s uniform approached, carrying a small water container with one hand, his other arm bound in a sling. Glass’s face lit up at the sight of him, and she didn’t look away as he passed the container to her and waited for her to take a sip. “Thanks,” she said, smiling at him before finally turning back to Wells. “Wells, this is Luke.”

Wells extended his arm and shook the guard’s good hand firmly. “I’m Wells. Nice to meet you.”

“I know. I recognize you, of course, and Glass has told me all about you. It’s really good to meet you, man,” Luke said, grinning as he released Wells’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder.

Glass hooked her arm through Luke’s and glanced back and forth between the two boys, beaming.

Wells grinned. He had no idea how Glass had ended up with a guard, let alone one who wasn’t from Phoenix, but none of that mattered down here. Besides, there was something about Luke that Wells liked right away. He seemed solid, sincere. Nothing like the slimy Phoenicians Glass used to date. She was clearly in love, and that was all Wells needed to know.

“Welcome to Earth,” Wells said with a smile, gesturing to the sky and trees and water all around them. As he did so, he noticed the blood covering Glass’s shirt. He inhaled sharply. Had she been hurt without realizing it? He pointed at her. “Glass, are you okay?”

Glass looked down at her shirt, and her face paled. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said quietly. “That’s… that’s not mine.” Luke wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight.

Wells’s stomach plummeted as he braced for the terrible news he could already feel hovering in the air, as if Glass’s pain were radiating out from the dark place she’d hidden it away.

Glass took a deep breath and tried to compose herself, but before she was able to form any more words, she crumpled and buried her face in Luke’s shirt. He whispered something into her ear that Wells couldn’t hear and stroked Glass’s hair.

Wells stared in horror. Part of him wanted to wrap his arms around his best friend, but that clearly wasn’t his place anymore. So he stood, waiting, until Luke turned to face him. “It’s her mother,” he whispered. “She’s dead.”

CHAPTER 5

Glass

Glass had never felt more out of place in her life. Not as a Phoenician visiting Luke on Walden. Not as the daughter of a man who abandoned his family. Not even as a recently freed convict back on Phoenix for the first time. She stood by the fire pit, shivering though the sun was high overhead, and watched the frenzy of activity around camp. Everywhere she looked, kids her age or younger were busy with crucial tasks.

People darted in and out of the hospital cabin, bringing water for Clarke’s patients and carrying out bloodstained bandages to burn or bury in the woods. Some of the kids spilled into the clearing, carrying axes and firewood they’d chopped themselves, while others were laying the foundation for a new cabin. A few hours earlier, a group of grim-faced volunteers had headed down to the lake to start digging graves for the passengers who hadn’t survived. There were too many to fit in the cemetery on the far side of the clearing, and there was no point to carrying the bodies all the way to the camp.

Although the new Colonists had left without much warning, the dropships had all been prestocked with enough basic supplies to make the first-wave kids act like they’d been given the key to everlasting life. One of the girls Wells had assigned to take inventory looked like she was going to cry while running her hand along a new hammer, treating it with the same reverence other girls showed toward a beautiful piece of jewelry at the Exchange.

Glass was desperate to make herself useful, but she was completely out of her element. She was too afraid even to ask where—or worse, how—she was supposed to go to the bathroom. Luke had been called away with the rest of the guards, and although he’d been reluctant to leave Glass on her own, they both knew now wasn’t the moment for him to shirk his duty.