Page 94 of The Order of the Bitter Hunt

I put a hand on their arm, stopping them. “I’ve been thinking… We should put a pause on the documentary for now.”

“Really? I feel like it’s more important than ever.”

“And itis. We should still keep track of things like the letters. But filming a documentary in the middle of the investigation is a distraction.”

They frown thoughtfully. “I didn’t see it that way.”

“I know… and it’s more, for me. I’m already performing in so many ways. Between the play, and lying to my parents’ face, and pretending to be a part of the Order… It’s a lot. Putting on another performance is exhausting.”

“I never expected you to perform for me.”

A soft smile appears on my lips. “I know, but I can’t help myself, darling. You know how I am once the camera is on.”

They crack a smile. “You’re right.”

“There will be time to document it after.”

They look away, their lithe fingers twisting together. “That’s my worry. I want to tell this story, but… what if I don’t live through this? Who’s going to tell it then?”

Tobey shoving cameras into my face makes too much sense now, and I nearly regret bringing it up. They’re human. Of course, they’re afraid they’ll die.

That’s my fear for them, too.

My smile disappears. “You will. You are the one to tell this story. It can’t be anyone else.”

And that means they must live to the end. There is no other option.

Tobey doesn’t look so sure. They wear a wary smile and turn their attention to the letter in my hand.

“Do you evenownathletic wear?” they ask, squinting at the words on the page.

I snatch the piece of paper from them. “Of course.”

There are exactly three matching sets in the back of my closet. While I prefer formal wear, it’s important to be ready for any occasion, especially at Strode.

“I feel good about this trial,” I say, stowing the letter in my top drawer.

“Do you?”

Hardly, but it’s best to fake it until I make it.

I sit on the edge of my bed, squeezing lotion in my hands. “I do. It’s a physical trial—Jun and I are both strong. He makes it sound like he’s a good fighter, too, but I doubt we’ll have to fight. That would be crazy…”

The first trial was a walk in the park. No violence, no injuries—the next will be the same.

“What if you have to fight other students?” they ask.

“Then, I’ll win.”

“What if you have to fight Jun?”

I press my lips together. “They won’t make us do that. We’re allies. We’reallowedto have allies.”

Unless they change the rules.

I smooth the lotion on my legs, avoiding Tobey’s gaze as they settle into bed.

Before I can ruminate on the question any longer, my phone vibrates with a distraction.