EMBER’S POV
And this time, I don’t freeze.
Something in me has had enough — enough of things I don’t understand in this house, enough of cold wrong feelings I can’t name, enough of watching people I liked turn out to be exactly the thing my gut warned me about.
And I don’t just walk toward her. I turn my head toward the guard station at the top of the sub-level stairs, where I know Reyes is posted for the night, and I raise my voice.
“Reyes.” It cracks down the corridor. “Down here. Now. Bring Daxon.”
Marjorie’s head snaps up.
“What are you doing—”
“Making sure you can’t move them one more inch.” I’m already striding toward her, and behind me I hear boots, the heavy quick tread of guards responding to a summons, and Marjorie’s face in the shadow of the shawl goes from hunted to some
