"What happened to your feet?" Goben peered at the bandages. I gave him a pointed look, and then he remembered. "Oh, yeah. Is it bad?"

"There's one laceration, but the rest are small cuts. I'll be okay."

"Oh, good. What did you want to talk about?"

I took another apple from the basket and turned it over in my hands. "You need to stop telling stories about me."

"Why? They're good stories."

"We don't know this guy! I mean, look what happened at the last place we stayed at."

"He's been nothing but nice," Goben said. "We spent the morning talking while you were snoring, and—"

"I do not snore!"

"Okay, maybe I'm the one who snores. But my point is, we talked about stuff, and I think we can trust him."

Unconvinced, I said, "Tell me why you trust him."

"Up until four months ago, he had a family."

I sat up straighter. "He did?" It hadn't occurred to me to wonder why he was living on his own. Not that he wasn't capable, but children usually stayed with their parents until circumstances changed. And I guess four months ago, circumstances had changed a lot. "The plague."

He nodded. "His parents and his sister."

My heart constricted. He'd lost his entire family in such a short span. It must have been devastating. "Wait," I thought aloud. "That must mean he's Gifted."

"Huh. I hadn't thought about that. We didn't talk about Gifted stuff except for you."

"That's another thing. Goben, no one knows me here. They don't know to be afraid of me. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Sember, you're not dangerous. Not anymore."

"Did you know I almost killed Dozan?"

His eyes grew big. "Really? What did he do to you?"

I smiled despite myself. Goben knew I was only dangerous when provoked. "Let's just say he tried to get fresh with me."

He practically guffawed.

I frowned at him. "What's so funny? Is it so preposterous that someone might want to be with me?"

"Wasn't he a little short for you?" he said when he finally stopped laughing.

"So?" My temper began to flare. Was it so laughable that a boy might be interested in me? Sure, Dozan didn't exactly discriminate, but still. Goben could go suck a toad.

"I heard you blew him away when you first met. Was that a turn-on for him?" His grin infuriated me.

"Where'd you hear that?" I demanded, then I decided I was too mad to hear any more. "Never mind, just . . . shut up!"

"Sember, I'm teasing."

"Go tease someone else, and leave me alone!"

He closed his mouth.

He had no idea what kind of nerve he'd just hit. Sure, he thought I was impressive, maybe even heroic this time. My gift could be very powerful. But it was because of my gift that I foresaw a lifetime of loneliness. I was undesirable, and to be reminded of that twisted my gut. "Just get out," I said quietly.

"Sember—"

"Get out!" I pushed him off the bed. A small blast escaped my hands as I pushed and it sent him stumbling forward.

He looked back at me. The hurt expression on his face sent pangs of guilt through my heart, but I was hurt too. And angry.

He slammed out of the house.

I was used to being the one to storm out of a room. When I got mad, I was the one to leave. But this time I couldn't. To run on my injured feet would be stupid. I found myself shaking with anger. With no outlet and no desire to burn the house down, I did the only thing I could. I backhanded the basket off the bed, sending the apples and strip of meat flying. Then I flung my face into the pillow and cried.

Crying was stupid and pointless, and I avoided it when I could. But all my self-doubts crowded in on me at once. I intimidated people. I hurt people. I pushed them away. Who could possibly stand being around someone as prickly as me?

I thought about my childhood, following Siena around, wishing I could be like her. I was sixteen now, and I still wanted to be like her. Siena was goodness and kindness and hope and light. She was life itself. People loved her. And I . . . I was a foul-tempered firebug who took everything the wrong way.

I was caustic.

I allowed myself another minute of self-pity before sitting up and drying my tears. It was just in time too, because Jastin chose that moment to come back inside. He saw the overturned basket on the floor and looked at me. I looked away, hoping he didn't notice my red-rimmed eyes.

"I saw Goben storming out," he began.

I didn't answer him, and instead constructed an iron wall around my raw emotions. I wouldn't be ridiculed again. Not by Goben. Not by anyone.

Jastin came over and sat on the floor so I was forced to look at him. "I used to fight with my sister," he said. "You wouldn't believe the shouting matches. But I'd give anything to be able to fight with her again."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and clamped my teeth together, clinging to the wall I thought had been made of iron, but now felt like a flimsy pile of twigs. I will not cry.

Anything I said at this point would sound petty compared to his grief, so I stayed quiet. When it finally became apparent that I would not talk, he got up to retrieve the basket and food. I refused to look at him, my emotions too close to the surface to trust myself. When he finished, he set something on the bed next to me and left again.

After the door closed, I turned to see what it was.

My heart squeezed.

It was a pair of boots.

They were my size, made of leather and straps. They were perfect. His kindness made the lump return to my throat. I'd been so rude. I felt like a monster all over again. Maybe I just had to accept that this was what I was.

Caustic.

Awww... our tempers can be awful things sometimes. Let's give her a sympathetic vote.