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velvet partition that conceals a large clawfoot tub. “I had a bath drawn for you. You can get cleaned up.”
    “Thanks.” I wince as he pulls the soiled mantle off my aching limbs.
    He tosses it into a corner. “I think we can find you something that fits better.”
    Then I submerge my naked body into the water, bracing myself for the usual jolt of coldness, only to be shocked by how warm and soothing it feels, like a thousand toasty fingers kneading my sore muscles. People actually live like this? If I did, I’d bathe four or five times a day instead of the once-a-day ritual of enduring a freezing splash from a rusty spigot.
    Cassius kneels beside the tub, using a sponge to gently scrub away the grime coating me, careful around my cuts and bruises. “Lucky, what about Cole? Your mother? How are they?”
    My vocal chords twist tight. “Mom … she … she’s gone. Reaper’s Cough. About six months after you left.” I blink, spilling a few drops into the bathwater.
    He massages soap into my scalp. “I don’t know what to say. I tried to make inquiries about your family, but you know—”
    “Contact is forbidden. Yeah, I know.” I sink deeper into the water.
    “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. But I’m here now .” He cups water in his hands and rinses out my hair, making sure it doesn’t get in my eyes. “How’s Cole handling things?”
    I sit up. “Cole’s a real champ. He’s the best little brother a guy can have.”
    Cassius laughs. I’ve missed that sound. “I’m sure he doesn’t even remember his Uncle Cass.”
    I turn and grip the tub’s rim. “Of course he remembers you! I’ve only told him the stories of all our adventures, like a million times!” My mind floods with a stream of memories. “Well, some of our adventures, at least.”
    He winks at me. “Remember the time we snuck past that squad of Imposers into Old Man Roarkeshire’s farm and got ahold of that Wanderer’s Brew?”
    “Just how much intoxicant was in that thing?”
    Cassius stands, knuckles resting against his hips. “All I know is that Old Man Roarkeshire used it to polish the metal hinges in his barn.”
    I chuckle. “Great stuff!”
    He grips one of the marble columns and swings completely around it. “We ought to take a ride out there sometime, see the old place!”
    Visions of burning skin and its stench drains the remaining warmth from the bathwater. “We can’t. It doesn’t exist anymore.”
    A sigh escapes Cassius. “How stupid of me. I heard about …
about that. ”
    My eyes drop to a bubble forming a dome on my palm. A pair of eyes stares at me. Probably just my own reflection. But why are they sky blue and filled with accusation? I dunk my hand beneath the surface.
    I’ve had enough. No matter how long I lie here, I’ll never feel completely clean. Rising, I climb from the tub. Cassius picks up a towel draped over a pedestal and tosses it my way. With my back to him, I dry off. When I’m finished, he’s holding a robe open and slips it around me. It’s made of a lustrous black material that’s softer than any I’ve ever felt before.
    “It’s called silk,” he whispers in my ear. “Only the best for my Lucky.” He reaches around me and cinches the robe’s sash about my waist.
    “Cole must be wondering where I am,” I whisper back.
    “So he hasn’t been taken into a child assimilation program?”
    Breaking from his embrace, I swerve to lock eyes. “Of course not. I’m his family. He belongs with me.”
    Genuine surprise darts from Cassius’s eyes, like needles to my skin. “I only meant that I’m sure it’s hard to take care of a—what is he now, four?—year-old on your own.”
    I back away on uncertain legs. “Mrs. Bledsoe helps out during my shift at the library. We don’t need any outsiders.” My heart gallops. I lean against the partition to steady myself.
    Cassius moves closer, arms open wide. “But the Establishment’s child care programs are a