Clancy had been perfectly still the entire time Chubs had torn into him, but now that Chubs was finished, Clancy leaned in close, as if he were about to whisper a secret to him. Only, when he spoke, his voice was loud enough for us all to hear. “I toyed with more than her feelings.” His eyes flicked to Liam’s face. “Didn’t I, Stewart?”

The sweep of furious crimson that washed up over Liam’s throat to his face was enough to tell me exactly what kind of image Clancy had pushed into his head.

“Don’t!” I screamed, but it was too late for that.

What happened next passed so fast that half of the people gathered there must have missed it. Liam raised his fist, ready to launch it into Clancy’s smug face, but his hand got no farther than his shoulder. Every part of him—every muscle, every joint, every sinew—went board-straight, like he had received a great electric jolt. He froze, and a breath later, he was on the ground and Hayes’s fists were slamming into his face.

“Stop!” I begged, ripping free of Chubs’s grip. I knew what Clancy had done to him, and why he couldn’t even raise a hand to protect his face. I saw a spray of blood hit the dirt, and it was more than I could take.

It was more than any of us could take.

“Clance,” I heard Olivia say, “that’s enough. You made your point. Hayes—you’ll kill him!”

Again and again and again, on whatever surface of skin he could find, Hayes drove his fist into Liam, like he could pound his fury into him. The blows didn’t stop until Clancy put a hand on his shoulder, and even then, Hayes made sure to get one last punch in across the face. He heaved Liam up by the front of his shirt, and when Clancy nodded to him, Hayes slammed Liam back against the ground and stood up, leaving him a limp mess of raw skin facedown in the dirt.

The moment the two of them were out of sight, Chubs and I both lurched forward, pushing through the circle of kids that closed around Liam. We got maybe two steps before Mike blocked us from going farther.

“Don’t,” he said. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“What are they going to do to him?” Chubs said.

“Go back to your cabin,” he told us. “We’ll take care of him.”

“No,” I said, “we’re not leaving without him.”

Mike rounded on me. “I don’t know what the hell you said to him or made him think, but Lee was happy here. This is exactly what he needed, and you’ve screwed him over—”

“Don’t you dare,” Chubs snapped. “Don’t you dare blame her for this. Your head is so up the Slip Kid’s ass you can’t see anything that’s going on around you!”

Mike bared his teeth. “We all put up with you at Caledonia because Liam asked us to, but I don’t have to do that here.”

“Whatever,” Chubs said. “Do you think I care about that? The only thing I care about is what’s going to happen to Lee—you know, the one that put everything on the line to get us out in the first place?” His words had the desired effect. Mike paled in the darkness. “You can have your stupid Slip Kid, but don’t expect us to let you keep Lee.”

We threw ourselves forward again, trying to claw our way through to reach him. A pair of arms wrapped around my chest, another around my legs, and it didn’t matter how hard or loud we were screaming, the kids dragged us away from Liam all the same.

Chubs and I sat on Liam’s bunk, not speaking, not moving, not doing anything but watching the cabin door. Through the windows, we saw curious faces—gawkers and guards alike, all trying to figure out exactly what had happened. Lights-out had come and gone, but it wasn’t like either of us was going to be able to sleep. Judging by the two figures in black standing directly in front of our door, it didn’t seem like we’d be able to leave, either. Not after our failed escape attempt, and certainly not after Chubs had rained down a verbal hailstorm on Clancy.

“Where did you learn to talk like that?” I finally asked, but he only shrugged.

“I tried to imagine what Lee would have said, and went from there.” Chubs rubbed the top of his head. “Did I really say he had pretty princess hands?”

I let out a strangled laugh. “All that and more.”

The seconds ticked by at half the speed of my thoughts.

“Why weren’t you affected?” I wondered aloud. “He did try it on you, didn’t he?”

“He tried; I definitely felt it. Little did he know…” Chubs tapped his forehead. “Steel trap. Nothing gets out or in.”

I had a fleeting thought that what he was saying could very well be true, and that it might even explain why his was the only head I had managed to avoid slipping into, but we heard a loud shuffle of steps on the path, and everything else flew straight out of my head.

Olivia and another kid came stumbling in, one of Liam’s arms over each of their shoulders. His face was turned down, and I could see where mud had caked into his hair. The rain had started about an hour after we had left him.

“Lee,” Chubs was saying, trying to get him to rouse. “Lee, can you hear me?”

We helped them lay him out on the futon. It was dark enough in the room that I didn’t see the extent of his beating until Olivia set a flashlight lantern down on the floor beside him.

“Oh my God,” I said.

Liam’s face turned in my direction, and for the first time, I realized he was actually awake—his eyes were swollen shut. I let my hand fall on the arm hanging off the side of the futon, and moved it so it was across his chest. The breath escaped his lips in wheezing sighs. There was a thick layer of gummy, dried blood caked around his nose, his mouth, down to even his chin. Daylight would reveal the rest of the bruises.