Chapter Seventeen
"missed"

❣︎

"Wait." Desmia stops us from stepping inside the boat. "I have one thing left to do. Go get Newt inside while I go."

Everyone freezes. "What do you mean?"

She casts a glance at Rachel, whose eyes wide as she nods understandingly. "Ahh, okay. See you in a minute. Does someone need to come with?"

"Not necessarily, but better not to take any risks. Come on, little mute." She grabs my arm and before I can protest, I'm dragged away. I squish my eyes shut at the pain in my arm—she really had to choose that one. And I'm not even talking about the pain in my wrists.

She still doesn't know I'm actually mute. Or does she? And does that mean she's trying to romanticize the nickname into something nice or is she just cruel? I can't tell and I hate it. I can't explain anything at the moment. Without that ability, I'm worthless.

"We're picking someone up. She's staying near the coast, hiding all alone. I've been spying on the three of you for a while, thought you were dangerous, and made her hide there. It's a better hiding spot than the other one, but too small for everyone," Desmia says.

Though I just want to rest in the boat, I nod and follow along again. Desmia keeps a tight grip on my arm, leading me down a narrow path surrounded by jagged rocks and patches of dry grass. My feet ache with every step, but I force myself to keep moving. The way she walks makes it clear she doesn't intend to waste time.

"Almost there," she mutters.

I don't know what to expect. I hate it. As we near the edge of the rocks, she crouches low, motioning for me to do the same. I follow her lead, though the movement sends sharp jolts of pain through my knees. Desmia points to a small opening between two large stones. "She's in there," she whispers, her voice unusually soft. "Wait here."

Before I can react, she lets go of my arm and disappears into the narrow space, leaving me crouched alone in the cold air. I rub my wrist absentmindedly.

How could I have missed this while we were searching the coast for Newt? What if Newt was the one in there? Everything else would be for nothing. 

Minutes pass. I try to peer into the opening but see nothing but shadows. Just as I begin to wonder if something's gone wrong, Desmia returns, holding the hand of a small figure.

The child steps out hesitantly, her bare feet dirty. She's thin—way too thin—and her face is pale beneath a layer of grime. Her dark curls tumble wildly around her head, but it's her eyes that catch me off guard. Large and alert, they dart between Desmia and me, filled with equal parts of curiosity and fear.

"This is my sister," Desmia says. "Her name is Cora."

Cora doesn't say anything, just grips Desmia's hand tightly and stares at me. I can see the resemblance between them now—same sharp cheekbones, same intense gaze. But where Desmia's presence is commanding, Cora's is fragile.

Cora tilts her head, her gaze still fixed on me. "Who's that?" she whispers.

"This is Addy," Desmia replies. I wonder if she even listened when Aris introduced me. Or if she's trying to make this nicer, like 'little mute'.

I wonder if I imagined that whole introduction because why does Rachel still not recognize me? Am I really just a small detail in her life, while she might be the biggest one in mine?

Cora frowns at me.

"She's... quiet," Desmia adds. And I don't know if that confirms her awareness of my mutism or not.

Her frown deepens. "Why?"

"She just is," Desmia says curtly. "Come on. We need to move."

Cora doesn't argue. She lets Desmia pull her along, but her wide eyes remain locked on me as we walk. I try to smile at her, though it probably looks awkward and forced. She doesn't smile back. I feel my heart drop, even though it's just slightly.

The walk back to the boat feels longer. Cora stumbles a few times on the uneven terrain, and Desmia quickly scoops her up without a word. She carries her the rest of the way.

When we finally reach the boat, Rachel is the first to notice us. Her eyes widen at the sight of the child. "There you are! Welcome back, Cora."

Cora freezes at the sight of the others—Thomas, Aris, and Newt. She clings to Desmia's arm, her small body trembling.

"It's okay," Desmia murmurs, her tone softer than I've ever heard it. "They're friends. They won't hurt you."

Her sister doesn't seem convinced, but she nods and lets Desmia guide her to a spot near the edge of the boat.

❣︎

The dinner table is awkward. I sacrificed my seat so that the others could sit. Newt is resting in our bed and Thomas is obviously with him, feeding him as much as possible. Desmia helps her little sister with eating and Rachel and Aris remain as close.

I'd like an answer to how Rachel and Newt survived. How they found Desmia. The bunker. Desmia's story. But every story seems to have been shared during our walk already. I'll just pray Aris tells me.

When I'm done, I look up. They're still eating. It's rude, but I can't help it: I put my plate down on the table and walk away—

"Where are you going?" Aris wonders, his tone almost laced with concern.

I point outside. He nods, so I close the door behind me, splitting me away from them. The sound of waves splashing up against the boat takes over completely. It's loud, almost disturbing, and the weather certainly isn't making this more comfortable. Yet I sit down on the ground, leaning against the wall of the cabin.

I tilt my head back, staring up at the stars that. My chest feels tight, my breaths shaky as I try to hold it all in. Everything piles on top of me, crushing me like the waves crashing against the boat.

I don't even realize I'm crying until a tear slides down my cheek. I quickly swipe it away, glancing around to make sure no one's watching.

But the tears keep coming, spilling out silently, streaking my face. I clench my fists, pressing them into my thighs, trying to will myself to stop. I can't break down now, not when everyone's depending on each other to stay strong.

The sound of the door creaking open behind me makes me freeze. I wipe at my face furiously, hoping I can clear away the evidence before—

"Hi," he says softly. And softly means it's Aris. Of course it's Aris.

I quickly turn my face away from him, pretending to be fascinated by the waves. Maybe he'll just think I needed air and leave it at that. It is the truth, actually.

But he doesn't leave. Instead, I hear him step closer until he sits down beside me. I still refuse to look at him.

"You okay?" he asks carefully.

I nod quickly, a little too quickly and wipe at my cheeks again. It's not convincing, and I know it.

After a moment of silence, he lowers his voice. "I'm sorry."

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him studying me like he always does. I frown, but don't look at him just yet. He'll elaborate soon.

"I didn't want... I didn't want to neglect you or anything like that. It's just—I don't know. I was shocked. Surprised. Happy, of course. It consumed my mind, I guess. I wasn't busy thinking about anyone else other than Rachel and Newt," he admits, his voice full of shame. "But I'm here now. I know you already cleaned your wounds up earlier, so I guess I can't do that to make it up, but we can... just sit here, or I can talk. I don't know."

I bite the inside of my cheek, still refusing to meet his gaze. If I look at him, I'll fall apart.

There's a long pause. He doesn't push further, but he doesn't leave either. After what feels like forever, he shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against mine. "Are you angry?"

I shake my head.

"Okay." Relief. "I brought you some paper. If you have any questions about anything, ask them. Rachel told me most of it."

I stare at the paper and the pencil he gives me for a moment before I ask, 'Everything. How did they survive? How did they meet Desmia and end up in there bunker?'

"Rachel says that all she can remember is waking up on the ground with the wires off her body. The whole facility was abandoned. She saw dead bodies, then didn't waste a second; she got everything she needed and began traveling through the Scorch once she gained her strength. She met Desmia and Cora after a while. They saved her. Together, they found shelter every night and traveled from place to place. After at least a year, they ended up in the Last City, but only after the fire happened.

"Desmia insisted on going into the ruins but Rachel hesitated. Eventually, they worked to find a new shelter; the one with the trapdoor. It was there before. Cora accidentally found it when she tried to take the book out of the case. It took them a while to figure out how the whole place worked. After that, Desmia went into the Last City, mostly to scavenge. She came back with Newt. He was weak and ill, the knife in his chest just next to his heart. As you saw, he still hasn't healed. But he's alive. He pleaded for Thomas, and Rachel realized there was a possibility of me being alive as well, so they made Desmia throw the bottle and the note in the sea.

"They couldn't say much on the note, afraid it would end up in the wrong hands. Newt was confident Thomas would find us. And he did." Aris pauses shortly. "But I'm rather confident that without you, we would've never been able to do it."

I shake my head. I was wrong about so many things. The only things I was right about is Thomas's blood on the knife and Newt going east—though he technically didn't even choose east on his own.

"Yes," Aris protests. "Without you, we would've never succeeded. You lead us the right way."

I might've done that, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't have succeeded. I wasted our time trying to make nonsense out of things. That body below the rubble was just a coincidence, not a clue. The note wasn't that deep: it didn't matter how the paper felt, what he wrote it with, or the charcoal—

I frown. It doesn't make sense. Aris summarized it too fast. There's more. Newt wrote the note before Desmia arrived. The other body was below the rubble for a reason.

Someday, I'll ask Newt himself. For now, I'll have to live with this short explanation. Aris probably didn't get every detail either, nor was Newt in the right state to fully explain his story to Rachel and Desmia.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He wonders again. "I know you're in pain. I know what Desmia did."

Now I am starting to get angry. If he knows what she did so well, why the hell didn't he bother to handle it first? He tried to ask me a question with the most obvious answer but didn't even finish it. Not speaking to me during our walk at all. Not even on the boat.

Just letting Desmia drag me away to rescue her little sister—why would he allow that if he knows what she did so well?

"I'm sorry," he repeats, whispering now. His hand pushes down on my tense shoulder. I want to shake him away, but I can't. "I'm really sorry."

I just need rest. My mind will be organized again. I will be able to think and analyze properly. My wounds will slowly heal. My throat will feel better eventually. Only then I will be able to concentrate on all of this without it fussing through my mind like a blur.

"I'll... I'll leave you alone," he eventually decides, sensing the right thing. "I'll come get you when it's your turn to sleep in the bed. Newt stays there all night, but you and Rachel will take turns. Desmia and Cora have a makeshift bed next to it. Thomas and I will survive. Guess he's too hyper to even sleep."

I nod, and he leaves.