Page 94 of Romancing in Rot

“Tomorrow morning,” Jacob says, voice low, “we ask the rest.”

I look from him to Lyla. “The rest?”

“The people Luis warned you about,” Lyla says. “The ones Carlos won’t name.”

My stomach tightens. “You want me to ask?”

Jacob’s gaze flicks toward the place where Luis disappeared with Barbara. “He answers you.”

“He answers all of us.”

“Not the same way,” Lyla says. “Luis trusts you. Carlos notices that.”

I glance toward the dark edge of camp. “And if he shuts down?”

“Then I step in,” Jacob says. “Routes, fuel, risk. That’s on me. But people?” His expression softens just enough to make my chest ache. “You’re better at getting people to talk without making them feel cornered.”

Lyla’s mouth tilts. “Teacher voice. Weirdly terrifying. Use it for good.”

A laugh almost escapes me, but the weight of what they’re asking presses it flat.

Jacob’s voice turns firm. “No one goes into the city until we know what we’re walking into.”

I nod, even though my stomach twists.

“All right. I’ll ask him.”

NINETEEN

IT’S A TRAP!

CLAIR

Morning arrives gray and cold, with smoke hanging low over camp and Chicago waiting beyond the trees like a bad idea with teeth.

Carlos sits on an overturned crate near the fire, one knee bouncing, a dented bowl balanced in his hands. Luis is tucked beside him, eating slowly while Poppy explains the very serious naming rules for weapons.

Apparently, Princess Murder Sparkle is a legacy, not a suggestion.

I sit across from him with my own bowl, close enough to talk but not close enough to make him feel trapped. Jacob stands near the maps. Lyla sharpens Sweetness by the back bumper like she isn’t listening to every word.

She is.

Everyone is.

Carlos knows it too. His eyes move over us, hard and restless.

I take a breath.

Teacher voice.

Not soft.

Steady.

“Luis warned us not to follow voices,” I say.

Carlos’s spoon stops halfway to his mouth.