The group of us sat together silently. It was a rare occasion, having Delaney eat with us around the dining room table like a proper family of sorts. Delaney had gone and brought back bags of take-out food from who knew where. All I knew was that there was no way he’d found such food in Manson. He had to have gone to the outside world.

It made me a dangerous mixture of envious and angry. It wasn’t as if I hadn't always known Delaney regularly traveled out beyond the forest. I’d suspected he wasn’t like the rest of us the moment I truly took the time to take in his appearance. He was far too clean-cut. His demeanor far too calm. He didn’t resort to violence like the rest of us whenever something just barely ticked him off. He talked. Those of us in Manson didn’t. It was truly as simple as that.

I hadn’t needed to hear him say it to come to that conclusion. 

I glanced at Angelica and it took a moment for the girl to realize she’d caught my attention. When she did, however, she simply sent me a smile. I raised a single eyebrow, caressing a single finger over the kitchen knife at my side. 

Angelica’s eyes widened in brief surprise and, for a moment, I was beginning to think I could no longer count on her. It was a stupid thought. She was the most loyal person I’d ever met, even to those who didn’t deserve it, and I was relieved the second her head bobbed forward in a single, small nod.

I glared at Delaney from the opposite side of the table, but he didn’t seem to notice. It seemed like an insult, a test, in itself for him to practically hand me a sharp weapon with his name engraved into its hilt. Atticus cleared his throat from where he was seated at Delaney’s side and my gaze shot to his. He cocked an eyebrow at me and, when I didn’t immediately explain myself, spoke up in his usual condescending tone.

“What’re you doing there, Firebird?” His gaze was unfaltering, unbothered, but almost empty in a way. He was idly pushing his food around his plate. Most of it had barely been touched with the exception of the occasional nibble. “You know how I feel about those mean expressions, darling.”

“Don’t test me,” I muttered, removing my hand from the knife to grab a bread roll from the center of the table. 

The man wouldn’t stop staring. It was unnerving and I was beginning to wonder if I could truly pull off my plan that particular night. Delaney remained so oblivious and Atticus seemed completely knowing. It was like he was waiting for the chaos to commence, but he didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He didn’t seem much of anything, really. 

I knew he hated Delaney just as much as I did, but that had never stopped him from continuously playing by the man’s rules. I didn’t know whose side he was on, but I knew it wasn’t mine. Despite that, I had no idea how I wanted to handle him. He angered me just as much as he always had, but it hit differently somehow. His constant barbs and taunts didn’t seem as personal as much as they seemed like an acted-out script.

A script and persona he put on to protect himself more than anything.

“This is your home, Firebird,” Atticus muttered. “Destroy this and you have no place to return to. No shelter, no safety. Risky, don’t you think?”

His words shot panic through my system. There was no way he didn’t feel the tension brewing throughout the room. The tension increased tenfold when Delaney finally looked up and met my stare. The man cocked an eyebrow, sat his fork down, and wiped at his face with a napkin. Before he could get a word out, Atticus opened his mouth again.

“Fail and there’s nowhere you can run.” Atticus slouched further in his seat and as the seconds passed, his voice kept getting softer and softer. It got to the point where I was straining to hear him. “Manson isn’t a big town. You understand you’ll be found, yes?”

He was projecting, stating aloud what seemed to be his own fears, his own constraints that’d always kept him trapped in this place when, in all actuality, the door was in the same place it had always been. Any one of us could walk out at any given time and yet, that simple action seemed like a pipe dream. I had always thought I had my own reasons for staying as long as I had, but it wasn’t true. All I’d ever been doing was stalling. That frustrated me more than anything.

I saw Angelica fidgeting from the corner of my eye. She was panicking just as I was, but she was making it far more obvious. 

Delaney glanced between the three of us, momentarily confused. “What are you talking about?”

“There are men working for Delaney on every corner in these parts. You’ll be hunted down. You’ll never be safe and you’ll never be able to walk a step without looking over your shoulder. That isn’t a way to live.” Atticus cracked a small smile and let out a chuckle. “But neither is being a slave. The situation’s shit no matter how you look at it. But that’s just life for you, ain’t it? One big stressful test where no one knows the answer.”

“Shut the hell up,” I said to him, pushing food around my plate. I don’t know why I bothered wasting my breath. He was rambling and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Whoever you’re fighting for…” Atticus let out a shaky sigh. “It’s not worth it. They’re probably not thinking about you. Or maybe they’re already dead. You never know; in Manson, anything can happen.”

“Atticus,” I grit out, my hand once again creeping to hover over the knife. 

“Your skull’s thick, though. My words aren’t getting through, are they?” Atticus was staring directly at me. “You don’t need a pep talk, do you? Go for it.”

Delaney was staring at me, too, and his expression was blank. He was calculating, tense, angry, and anticipating my next move. He figured it out. I could practically hear the gears churning in his head, drumming up a number of plots and schemes to get out of this with minimum violence or damage to his “merchandise”. On the other hand, it appeared he finally understood diplomacy didn’t work here. That Manson wasn’t like that other distant world he’d come from. 

“Get your freedom,” Atticus said casually. My heart beat painfully in my chest. “Kill Delaney.”

Those words were the last straw, sending the room into absolute pandemonium.