Chapter 7 · The Well

"You gonna tell me what you are?"

Luke's hand hasn't left his gun. We're standing twenty feet apart on the bank, Amy wrapped in someone's coat back at the wagons, and the river just keeps moving like I didn't tear through wood underwater without taking a breath.

He saw.

"I pull girl from river," I say. "That is all."

"You were under for four minutes." He tilts his head. "I counted."

I don't know if four minutes is a long time for a human. I lost track of what's normal—the way I don't get cold, don't need to piss, don't flinch when I slice my palm on metal.

"Amy alive," I say. "You want me dead, or you want to know why camp has bodies?"

His jaw works. "You know about the bodies."

"I know they have no blood." I meet his eyes. "I know I did not do it."

"But you know what did."

I don't answer. The truth is I don't know. I know what I am—at least I'm starting to. I know Edith made me this.