Greeting me when I walk into the warehouse is the sight of Finn, soaking wet with a blanket draped over him, sitting on a chair and surrounded by the entire crew. I quickly tuck the box into my pocket. Finn's eyes drift to me and everyone follows his gaze, noticing me and falling silent. Finn crosses his arms and scowls.

I stand there awkwardly for a moment, then clear my throat. "Oh...Finn, glad to see you made it back. I looked for you, where were you? Good to see you're all right." I try for a relieved expression – which isn't entirely false – but I don't fool anyone.

"Save it, Lynn," Darren shoves his way to the front and I mentally prepare myself for the verbal torture. "Finn told us what happened. He got here not too long ago. He said you sent him off to return by himself, even though you know he's never done a Loading Day. He barely got here."

Mixed looks are sent my way; some are disapproving, a few are angry. But mostly, there are expressions of appreciation and amusement. I'm not the only one who questions Finn's value in the crew.

Darren continues describing the twisted version of the day. "Finn also told us how you put him and yourself in danger when the clear signs of a Transfer appeared, and you stayed instead of accompanying him back. You deliberately sought out trouble and attention by remaining at the market."

I gape at Darren, then glare at Finn. He shrinks back a little, but his frown stays in place. "That's not the whole story," I refute. "And even that part isn't right. Don't you think Finn would say anything to make himself look like the victim and me the wrongdoer?" I point at Finn, but Darren steps in front of him.

"Why would he lie? What's there to hide? Besides, you still risked him." Darren says.

Someone in the back mutters, "Not that there's much to risk."

Finn whips his head around, trying to determine who spoke. Though, out of the thirty-five crew members, there's no shortage of people who would make such a comment.

"Did Finn tell you that the reason he was so concerned with leaving the market sooner was because he was tired and hungry and worried about getting wet by some non-existent rain?" I say.

At that moment, it begins to rain. I glance at the drops of water running against the windows and wince. Finn gives me a smug look.

"Okay, so not quite non-existent," I amend. "Anyway, if Finn told you everything that happened today, then you know that two people were killed today during the Transfer."

Alarmed murmurs spread through the group. "Killed? By who?" Someone – I recognize Sera's brown curls – demands. She leans on a crutch and hops forward a bit. Where's the other one?

"The Transfer's mother was shot by one of the men that came to retrieve her child, but she put up a bit of a fight. Then a man was shot as well, but I don't know by who." I don't say why he was killed, or what really got the mother shot. I don't know how to explain the strange mark or the odd speech Vera's mother gave without sounding a tad delusional.

"But no one's ever killed in public except for Relicts or those accused of attacking the guards." Another person in the back pipes up.

"I'm surprised they didn't at least mention the justification of deaths in the news. Didn't you check the screen..." I trail off as I look to where the screen usually is. No matter one's financial status, every household has a screen. Mainly to ensure we all see the crown's messages and newsreels. In the screen's place is a layer of dust outlining its shape and some frayed wires poking out of the wall.

"What happened?" I stammer. For as long as I've been here, we've depended on the screen since any arrests or deaths are immediately covered on the newsreels. Many of us are wanted by the guards, and it eases me in a twisted sort of way that I'll know if one of the crew is in trouble by the reels. But by then it's usually too late to do anything but watch.

"It spasmed earlier and sparks shot out of the sides. Wes went to search for a replacement." Darren says offhandedly.

So that's where Wes is. Darren wouldn't dare act so commandingly if Wes was present. Although Darren is a couple years older, Wes holds authority of the crew.

"What's important is what happened earlier today." Sera directs the focus back to the issue of today's events. "Lynn, where there anymore deaths? Anything else strange?"

I bite my lip, unsure of whether or not to mention the smoke. Thinking back to Finn's reaction, how he didn't even see the rioting mass, I decide against it. Although, it's strange he hasn't mentioned what he thought to be the moment a few of my screws were knocked loose. "No," I finally say. "It was just the two deaths."

Still, a troubled silence falls over the crew. What if the two deaths are just the beginning? What if it's just the opening for more murders and all out chaos? I doubt I'm the only one questioning what's to come as people share looks of concern and fear.

I let the unsettling revelation sit with everyone, then speak. "I sent Finn ahead because he's never done a job outside of the warehouse and occasionally at the Boar's Head. If he got caught in a Transfer, he likely would've been in a far worse situation than trying to come back alone. I risked myself, and myself alone, and even that wasn't much of a threat. I've never been caught, and I don't plan to."

I cross my arms and scan the room, daring one of them to counter. They don't. It's a confirmation of what I already know; I'm respected and well-liked by the whole crew – other than Finn and Darren – and they don't doubt me or my capabilities. "That's what held me up. Finn couldn't wait for me to come so he left. That's his decision and not my fault. I tried looking for Finn but eventually curfew neared, and I don't have a pass yet, so I had no choice but to return."

Everyone glares at Finn. He looks around nervously, then nudges Darren forward. Darren coughs, then straightens his spine. "Well, whatever happened today, you still left Finn alone," I open my mouth to argue but he holds up one infuriating hand, and I have the flitting fantasy of breaking it. "And you know the rules, Lynn, you know the consequences."

"Get it out of your head that you have any standing here, Darren. You have no authority." I snap. "You aren't the leader."

"Neither are you, Lynn." Finn defends Darren. "You don't have the right to do anything, either."

"Oh, shut up, Finn." I groan, then address Darren. "We all know why you favor Finn – he adds to your delusion of control. Just because the rest of us don't worship the ground you walk on, it doesn't mean you side with whoever does, especially when that person is clearly wrong."

"Well why shouldn't I be in charge?" He argues. "I'm the oldest and I've been here the longest."

"The fact that you use that as your argument counters your own point." I refute. "Time doesn't mean you're fit to lead. Quality over quantity."

Tension and excitement mingle in the air. Bets are made as the anticipation of a fight rises. I like watching a good fight as much as the rest of the crew, but I never fight out of the Pits. My hands curl into fists, but I force them to remain by my sides.

"Of course, you know all about quality." Darren sneers.

My knife is in my hand and at his neck before I know it. Lately, Darren's frustration at his low status have been directed into creating rumors about me and the true reason of my high rank. But no one believes him, they know me. Still, it boils my blood every time he tries to credit my worth to something other than my work and effort.

Darren's breath comes a little faster as I slide the blade down his chest. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough pressure to make him at least a little worried.

"My skills and place here were earned. No one but me contributed." I say, my voice low. We aren't allowed to cause bodily harm to each other, but there's nothing against inciting fear.

"Pretty tricks." He scoffs. "I wonder what else Wes taught you."

Darren's red cheek and my stinging palm are the only proof of the slap. I stare at his cheek in shock and horror. No, no, I'm not supposed to. I can't do that... I'm like her. So many things gone wrong. So many memories resurfacing.

Darren's eyes are wide, his face livid. He presses a hand to his face. "You –"

The door slams open. A large hooded figure holds a large box under his arm. The figure steps in and lowers his hood, drops of water dripping from his brown hair. He takes in the sight before him: a drenched Finn, the tense crew, and me and Darren in the middle of an argument.

Wes raises a brow, shifting the scar running down the length of the right side of his face. "Well? Someone care to explain?" he sets the box down.

Darren and I step forward at the same time. Darren begins to talk, but Wes silences him with a hand. The same way Darren interrupted me. Wes gestures for me to speak and a spark of satisfaction comes at the sight of Darren's furious expression. I recount everything that I said earlier; how there were no loaders because of the Transfer, the chaos and me sending Finn ahead until I could leave without getting caught, Finn not wanting to wait and deciding to leave without me.

Wes looks between the three of us, then back to Finn. "Why are you wet?" He asks Finn. It's only then that I fully register that Finn is soaking even though it wasn't raining earlier.

Finn turns bright red. "I ended up at the wrong side of the pasture and fell into the lake." He mumbles.

There are some barely concealed laughs and I don't even try to hide my own. Finn glares at me, but it doesn't stop me. Wes doesn't pay attention to the laughs. "Finn, as this was your first – and last – Loading Day, you won't be in trouble for panicking and leaving Lynn." Finn releases a relieved breath. "However, you will be punished for lying about the truth of the events and painting yourself as the victim."

"It wasn't entirely a lie," Finn splutters. "It was all just so confusing and overwhelming. And Lynn left me alone for so long on my own." Once again, he tries to deflect the blame onto me.

Wes studies him. "You don't win yourself any points by sounding helpless. You, and everyone else, are here because you contribute. And you didn't know what actually happened throughout the day and gave an unfair account. There may be a time when you may not know what else there might have been, and your misinformation could lead to something worse than just a simple mix-up."

Finn pales slightly. Wes isn't wrong, though. One little missing detail in guard rotations or lockdown timings or Transfer retrievals could end up with someone arrested or the warehouse being uncovered.

"You have one week in the Boar's Head. You can be here for a few hours in the afternoons during the lulls, but otherwise you are to spend your time in the tavern. And you're in charge of the bathrooms there." Wes finishes with Finn and turns to me.

At twenty-three and tall enough that he only has to raise his hand to touch the high ceiling, Wes towers over me. The day I became a part of the crew is still fresh in my mind, years later. A few months after joining I realized that if I allowed something like height or size intimidate me, I'd never have any respect – from myself or any of the others. I lift my chin.

"Lynn, while your delay wasn't completely in your hands, you still should have thought your decisions through."

"Hold on." I already know where this is heading. "In no way is it right that I should be punished. You have no idea what it was like today."

"How do you know? I have connections with the guards, you know this. It's how we get out passes. I know what went down."

No, he doesn't. he doesn't know about the smoke, otherwise he definitely would have mentioned it. "Then you know it was chaos. You know about the two dead after the Transfer. It was a stampede even before the retrieval. The Transfer's powers acted against her and people panicked. They were running all over the place to leave the..." I'm hit with the sudden realization that people left the marketplace right before the Transfer.

They were able to leave, even though there's always supposed to be a lockdown. But there wasn't a lockdown. In fact, after the smoke disappeared, the number of guards dwindled. No wonder I escaped without even seeing a guard. My mind was still on the Transfer and the deaths and so much more that I didn't even notice the lack of security.

Wes doesn't miss it, either. "What do you mean people left the market? There should have been a lockdown to make sure the Transfer doesn't leave the area."

I blink. "I don't know. Everything was off today. There was an issue with the Aurelian that came right before the Transfer and one of the guards. I didn't see the Aurelian after that." Unless it was the boy I ran into right after the Transfer. I don't think it was him, though. The voice was much different, but it could've been altered with air manipulation.

"I didn't hear anything from the guards today. I can usually count on one of them to slip up and mention something about changes in their routines or unusual orders." Wes considers the situation then shakes his head. "There's something else we're missing, but I don't know what. The guards will likely be in the tavern tonight, though. They're always there. They'll get drunk and will probably say something that might be able to explain what happened. We'll see tonight."