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“What?” Clay asks.

“Nothing,” Vero responds.

I laugh. “You just said, wow.”

“I can see now.”

Ares pinches the bridge of his nose. “What did you find?”

“I didn’t find anything—I can just see now and there are cobwebs.”

“So you’re scared of cobwebs now?” Brawley teases, rolling his eyes.

“I am not scared, but where there are webs there are spiders.”

“Get out from under there,” Brawley tells him, grabbing his leg.

Vero kicks him away. “I’m fine, I can make peace with spiders—I am bigger and scarier than them.”

I press my hand over my mouth to stop laughing.

“It has to be the belt,” Clay says again.

“It isn’t,” Ares doubles down.

“Then what is it, smartass?” Clay fires back.

“If you stop thinking about the belt, we can look at the motor housing.”

Brawley huffs. “Neither of you knows what you’re talking about.”

Both Clay and Ares look at him. “Do you know what it is then?” Clay asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, but neither do either of you.”

Vero’s hand appears again from under the platform. “I would like to come out now.”

Brawley helps Vero out, and as he gets up, I spot cobwebs in his short hair, but I don’t plan to be the one to tell him.

“I think we need Cipher,” Vero concludes.

“He isn’t here,” Ares says.

“I’m going to get food,” I say, sliding off the platform. I’m officially bored. “If I listen to another five minutes of all of you arguing, I may lose my mind.”

“Get me something with sugar,” Vero blurts.

“Get him something without sugar,” Brawley adds, and I laugh.

“You will all get what you get.”

I walk over to the gate, grab my jacket and water bottle from the ground beside it, then take a long drink before screwing the lid back on. I leave them to it and cut through the grounds to the housing part of the island. It’s quieter than normal today, with most of the staff in town for their monthly shopping trip. It seems weird to me, but most don’t like to leave the island often, and Ares told me they all go in together—safety in numbers and all that. Not that I think they need to worry, as I’m sure people will give them a wide berth.

I make it to the house and dig through the kitchen, pulling together some snacks for everyone. I load it all into a bag and grab my water bottle from the counter, drinking the rest of it before picking up the bag and heading back outside.

Realization hits me; this is very domestic. When did this become something I wanted? I’m here not because it’s convenient, but because I want this.

The walk back feels longer, and by the time I reach the cornfield, my feet feel heavy and my legs are getting tired. I stop and take a few breaths. I just need to eat something, I tell myself as I start walking again.