Chapter 2 - The City With No Name“What’s it called now?” Claire asked.
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The three boys exchanged a look so quick and sharp that Claire almost missed it. It was not the look of children deciding whether to answer a stranger. It was the look of soldiers deciding whether an enemy had earned the right to hear a password.
The boy with the scar crossed his arms. “Nothing.”
“That’s a terrible name for a city.”
“It doesn’t have a name because no one deserves to live there,” said the boy in the toy chest.
Claire nodded slowly, as if this made perfect sense. “That’s fair. Most cities start with bad leadership.”
The boy on the desk frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means whoever runs it is doing a questionable job.” She looked at the marker-drawn wall again. The streets were not random. They had structure. Bridges connected districts. There were little black squares that might have been buildings or checkpoints. At the center was a tall tower drawn three times darker than everything else.
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing.
All three boys went still.
Henry Brandt, standing behind her, made a small sound in his throat. It could have been a warning. Claire ignored it.
“The tower,” she said. “What is it?”
“Nobody goes there,” the quiet boy said.
“Why not?”
“Because that’s where the monster lives.”
The scarred boy shot him a furious look. “Nico.”
“What?” Nico muttered. “She asked.”
Claire did not laugh. She did not smile. She had learned a long time ago that children used monsters when adults had failed to tell the truth.