I looked up at Martin and Ksensiya, seeing hatred and forced sympathy in their gazes. Val was right, had always been right, and now I had to get us away. My hand shook as I dragged it through my hair.

“You want to know what I did?” I asked, my voice shaking too. “I wish I could tell you…”

Martin snorted and folded his arms, Kseniya placed a gentle hand on him and waited.

“You say you were created because of people like me. But there isn’t any, not like me.”

Kat, what are you doing?

We can’t escape, Val. They have to let us go.

I was right and she knew it, so I continued, “They used to say that no one escaped sane from Camp 32. And they were right. I am not sane.”

My audience frowned, Kseniya sat down and I directed my words to her. “Ekaterina is but one of three. I’m the one most capable with others. Then there’s the one who remembers our lessons. She and I work together,” I said.

“And the third?” Kseniya asked.

I motioned away from us, toward the dead train and said, “She remembers Camp 32.”