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“I want to show you something. But it’s going to be dark.”

Kayla glances at me. “Is this where I find out you’re really the most dangerous one and are luring me somewhere to kill me?”

“That depends on your definition of dangerous.”

She smiles at that and holds out her arm. “Lead the way then.”

Strolling off the main path, I lead her along the side of the circus tent and down past the cemetery to where a low stone wall had been built when the cemetery was first laid out. Here you can see almost the entire island at once.

I lean against it and watch as she climbs on top.

“I didn’t know this was here,” she calls down.

“Most of the workers don’t either. No one really comes back here.”

“How did you find it?”

“I built the tracking systems, so I needed to do a full scope of the island. I found this along the way.”

She jumps down beside me and leans her back against the wall. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Only when I need to think.”

She turns to face me. “And what do you think about?”

I pause. She is waiting for something real, and I know exactly how much I need to give her. Enough that it feels like honesty, but not enough to matter. “Nothing in particular.”

Noa walks past the cemetery border and gives me a nod. They are the only other person I have ever seen come around this side.

“Vero mentioned that you never do chases anymore. Well, besides the times with me.”

“I don’t.”

She glances up at me, and I hesitate. Genuine is not a mode I operate in, and I’m aware that is what she is waiting for.

“Why?”

I shrug. “They stopped being appealing. Running the systems interests me more than participating. Watching how people behave when they think they can let loose and escape from their normal lives tells me more than I can get from any chase.”

“You know what they say about people who watch others when they don’t know.”

I laugh. Kayla is calling me a stalker.

“It’s not stalking—it’s observing.”

She scoffs. “And what is the difference, smarty-pants?”

“Watching is only surface level. Observing is selective, deeper.”

“And what are you looking for when you observe exactly?”

I hold her gaze. “Whatever they are trying to hide.”

She doesn’t look away, and the corners of her mouth tilt up. “And what am I trying to hide?”

“I don’t know yet,” I say, which isn’t entirely true. “You’re harder to read than most people.”

“Is that a compliment from the almighty Ares?”