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colors whose names I’d only recently learned. Today it glowed gold and orange with slivers of pink, like a speckled autumn apple. As we’d traveled, we had found a few growing wild, a bit withered, but still edible. A cool wind blew over me, lifting tendrils of my hair from the braids. It would be suppertime soon, and I hadn’t started my schoolwork for the next day.
    I ran through town, ignoring the whispers. A few women pointed at how I lifted my skirts. “Does that girl ever walk like a normal person? I can’t imagine what they were thinking when they took her in.”
    I ignored them as I always did, though it hurt, each word like a stone hurled at my back. When I opened the front door, Momma Oaks murmured about me catching cold. Then she asked me to lay the table, and I did so without complaint. I found it fascinating how many different tools people used to eat a meal Topside. Food was scarce enough down below that we raked it off our plates as fast as we got it, and nobody carried extra weight, as people sometimes did in Salvation. That seemed marvelous, that people could pack on enough flesh to withstand a hard winter.
    Edmund joined us and Momma Oaks took my hand, as she did each night. “Creator, bless and keep us. Guide us to live according to your laws and to appreciate your blessings.”
    The first time she did that, I wondered aloud who she was talking to, and she explained that she was addressing a being who lived up in the sky and watched over us. Though I didn’t like to insult her, I thought her god had done a terrible job keeping his people safe. Given the current state of the world, it seemed far more likely the Freaks were his favored creatures.
    My foster mother served us all. As I ate, I made polite conversation over roast meat, fresh bread, and vegetables. “How come your son never comes to see you?”
    Edmund and Momma Oaks froze. Their expressions said my idea of courteous didn’t match theirs. Pain flashed across her features, echoed in a spark in her eyes, and then she dropped her gaze to her plate, apparently unable to respond.
    But I didn’t understand why it was wrong for me to be curious. I’d been living in their home for over a month; it seemed unkind that he hadn’t come to check on his sire and dam. For all he knew, I was a dangerous maniac who might murder them in their sleep.
    Then Edmund cleared his throat. “Rex has his own affairs to tend. He’s busy.”
    “Oh.” That sounded like an excuse. It was more likely they’d argued, but as I wasn’t part of the family, I didn’t push for the truth.
    Silence reigned for a while. I had made them sad without meaning to, and so I feared asking another painful question. Eventually, once I cleared my plate, there was a sweet, which tasted as good as the canned cherries Fade had shared with me in the ruins. The dessert jolted my memory.
    “What is it?”
    “Taste it.” Fade dipped his finger into the tin and offered it to me.
    I couldn’t resist, though I knew better than to let him feed me like a brat. Sweetness exploded on my tongue, contrasting with the warmth of his skin. Shocked and pleased, I pulled back and dipped two of my fingers into the tin in a little scoop. This time I caught more than the sauce. A round little red thing sat in the curve of my fingertips. I ate it without hesitation, two, three more scoops until I was sure I had red all around my mouth, and I didn’t care. He watched me with amusement.
    “How did you know it would be so good?” I asked.
    His smile slipped. “I had some with my dad, once.”
    These days, Fade wasn’t around enough to share anything with me; an ache curled through me like a metal hook. There had to be some way to fix things between us. A question from Momma Oaks drew me before I could decide what to do about Fade. After dinner, I cleaned up while my foster parents talked quietly in the other room. Fractured words reached me in fits and starts.
    “—maybe we should tell her. She