The room is dark. It's so dark I can't figure out if my eyes are open or shut. Disoriented, I drift in and out of sleep causing the nightmares to blur into reality. However, if I knew how to wake myself, I don't think I would. My nightmares are the only time I see the people I miss. It's my only connection to the few people who I would give anything to have them returned to this world alive and safe.

Max's heavy breathing fills the small room. It's not slow and steady like usual, it's fast and rapid, maybe scared. I listen carefully for sounds of an intruder, sounds he may have heard alerting him to danger and my hand automatically reaches for the knife. My fingers wrap around emptiness and I frantically search my waistband but my hands find nothing. It's gone.

"You won't find it," Max grunts. His unused vocal cords strain to make themselves heard.

"Ok," I say calmly. Sitting up, my back presses against the wall and my eyes strain to see but it's useless.

"Why do you have a knife?" He asks.

"For our protection."

Max chuckles harshly. "You think you can protect us against the hoards of Officials who are going to be after us."

"I'll try."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to die."

"Why?" He sounds confused.

I shuffle uncomfortably. I could be honest, I could lie. Taking a breath, I say, "There's been too much death in my life. You're not exactly my favourite person but that doesn't mean I think you should die."

I resort to my former self, merging truth with falseness so as to evade revealing my past. Maybe, I do need to be more open but that doesn't mean I'm going to start professing the inner workings of my mind to a boy who's emotions directly corresponds to his fluctuating testosterone levels.

"Who's Grey?" Max asks.

A friend. A lover. A person who in a short space of time has somehow infiltrated every part of my body and mind. He's tainted all my memories which means everything reminds me of him. "He's dead."

"Did he deserve to die?" Max says and the question takes me by surprise.

"No." I exhale heavily. "However, I'm starting to realise in this world, it's the ones who don't deserve to die that often are the first to go."

"The State told us Unmarkeds were immoral people. They are brought up by rebel parents who encourage them to cheat, lie and corrupt those around them for their own sordid entertainment. Apparently, they are the legacy from the old world, when people with unmarked flesh could use their wit and charisma to falsify their true identity. Getting marks eliminate people guessing the truth about a person's real nature, it ensures people are honest about who they are, all their characteristics on show."

I laugh harshly at this. "So are you going to get a mark showing you're moody if you don't get enough sleep, that you jump to conclusions and you bite your nails when nervous?"

Max doesn't respond.

"Exactly. Apart from compulsory marks, the rest are all handpicked to demonstrate what we are most proud of, the parts of us we are happy for the world to see. The marks are there to control you and make you conform. The State want you to follow their rules, want you to inform on people, want you to be scared of me because I'm different. I'm not under their control and that's what worries them."

"What's going to happen to me?" Max asks quietly.

"You're going to find your place in the world and while you do it, I'd like you to stay with me." It's the right thing to do. I owe it to Dorothea after she took me in and risked her life. I just really hope Max finds his place in the world soon.

Max doesn't make a sound which makes me think he's fallen back to sleep until I hear the clatter of the knife as it slides across the floor. I guess that's his way of telling me he doesn't think I'm completely untrustworthy and that he will stay. Now, all I need to do is convince Jas and Zed.