Melinda gave Gunnar a playful nudge as they walked back to his apartment in the semi-occupied hallway.

"That was uncool to hide the cream soda above the cupboard the whole time," she said.

He looked down at her with a small smile tugging on his lips. It had been fun to watch her run around the apartment in a panic, and he just couldn't work on any more of those reading words. If there was one thing he was good at, it was avoiding book learning. After a handful of these sessions, Gunnar was finding her less annoying and stuck up than he had before. She was still not someone he'd go out of his way to protect, but he could tolerate her for the lessons.

"You gotta learn to inspect every corner of your surroundings."

Melinda crossed her arms across her cropped top. "You didn't even tell me it was hidden."

"Life doesn't spell out its lessons like you do."

Melinda rolled her eyes. "Hilarious, Gunnar."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a voice called from behind the two of them. It had the same tone Gunnar had been studying and trying to copy last week.

"We're walking," Gunnar replied without slowing his pace.

When Travis grabbed him by the neck and pushed him up against the brick wall, Gunnar realized he should keep more of his comments to himself. "Do you think you're tough since they released you from our little prison?"

Gunnar didn't look in a lot of mirrors, but staring down a similar same dimpled chin and thin nose gave him the chills. Travis didn't dare leave any stubble on his chin like Gunnar had gotten used to doing. Gunnar winced as Travis' grip tightened around his throat. He needed to find a way to get away from Travis once he could breathe again. None of the blurs passing by stopped to intervene.

Melinda tried to pull Travis' arm away, letting Gunnar take in a small gasp of air before the grip tightened again. "Travis, stop it! He wasn't doing anything."

"Really, because from what I've heard the two of you have been spending plenty of time together the past few days. I was very clear that he stay away-"

Melinda maintained steady eye contact with Travis despite being at least a head shorter. "That he stay away from what, Travis? When exactly did you have a conversation with Gunnar?"

Travis clammed up and dropped his arm from around Gunnar's neck. Taking a deep breath, Gunnar's fingers crawled up to his neck to the familiar invisible bruises

"When I found out he'd been impersonating me and trying to get close to you. Now he's trying a new tactic."

Melinda stared in the distance for a moment like she was piecing something together. Gunnar stayed where he was. There was no reason to give Travis an incentive to bruise his healing ribs.

"We're going to go see the director."

Melinda scowled. "You really think your dad wants to mediate your little paranoid fight."

Travis hovered over Melinda, a good head taller than she was. "He should know what our newest arrivals have been doing."

Melinda took a step back and placed her hands on her hips. "Knock yourself out."

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't like it," he whispered to Melinda, loud enough for Gunnar to overhear.

Gunnar wasn't too bothered by their troubles in paradise as long as Travis didn't blame him for the shortcomings. But given the experiences he'd had with so-called father figures in his lifetime, he knew men were too proud to see or admit they were the problem. It was much easier to rough up the woman and her kids or throw something at the wall.

Once Melinda ran off, Travis swiped a card that Gunnar had never seen at one of the nearby elevators, and the doors opened moments later. The man inside the elevator, dressed in a well-fitted suit, eyed Gunnar. Travis muttered an excuse that Gunnar could hardly hear. The buttons on this elevator were outlined in gold and had their numbers posted. Gunnar's stomach clenched when the man pressed a double-digit number.

Gunnar's stomach fluttered as the elevator flew up, higher than the others he'd been on before. A burst of sunlight caused his eyes to sting, filtered through the walls which Gunnar just realized were made of glass. One hand flew to shield his eyes and the other clutched onto the metal bar at his waist in case his legs refused to cooperate.

"Figures you can take down a guard, but can't handle an elevator," Travis muttered.

Gunnar reopened his eyes and took in the skyline. Pieces of buildings littered the streets. Some had crumbled to the core, and others leaned against freestanding structures, threatening to fall should the wind hit just right. Beneath it all sat the blackened bones of Vegas. It had been one thing to see the destruction upon their arrival, but from a bird's-eye view, the city and its many hotels really got wiped out. He wasn't sure how this building stayed intact.

Gunnar assumed this elevator ride was some kind of scare tactic, designed to show him just how screwed he would be if he ran, but it did the opposite. He located the little standing towers and two-story buildings they had used as a hideout upon their arrival, tucked in nearby and blending in nicely. The far-off mountain made him miss his cabin far out of reach of all these people. He wondered how Hunter and Vita were doing but quickly thought better of it.

The elevator chimed and the two young men stepped into a penthouse suite--one of those ones he'd seen in a movie--with enough tan leather couches to seat a dozen people, a huge flat-screen TV, balcony overlooking the city and a Jacuzzi. Gunnar wondered if Travis and his father would sit in there with champagne glasses toasting to what the world had become.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Travis," said one of the women tidying up a few dishes left on the coffee table. "How may--"

Travis grimaced and looked away from the woman. "I need to speak to my father immediately."

"I will let him know." She placed the dishes on a cart draped in a gold cloth then took off down the hall to two large wooden doors.

Travis took a seat on the couch and pulled out his smartphone. "Don't think of stealing anything."

Months ago he would have tried, but now looking around and the tech and high-value items, Gunnar couldn't see much use for them outside these walls. Weapons, food, clothing, shelter, those were actually valuable and the rest of this was just wasted energy to make people feel better about themselves.

Five minutes later, a blonde man taller than both Gunnar and Travis came out of what Gunnar assumed was an office. It could have also been some kind of evil hideout, but Gunnar had no evidence to support that idea. The man straightened his charcoal suit jacket and adjusted the purple tie. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Gunnar then turned to his son.

"I hope this is important." The man's voice echoed hints of a familiar accent.

"Gunnar has been trying to take advantage of Melinda."

The man looked Gunnar up and down with narrowed eyes. He turned to Travis "What exactly has Melinda told you?"

Travis fixed his gaze on a large painting of a castle standing strong against a snowstorm. "She hasn't formally addressed the exact activities that have been-"

"She hasn't complained?"

"Not exactly, but the two of them have been spending a lot of time together."

"Do you mean to tell me, you're wasting my time over simple jealousy?"

"Father, there's-"

"That's enough, you may go."

Gunnar stood before Travis did. Travis' dad continued to stare at Gunnar's face much longer than necessary. Gunnar's hands started to sweat, and he fixed his gaze on the ground. At least they'd be out of here soon.

"You can stay."

"Me?" Gunnar's voice crackled.

"Yes, stay."

Travis grinned at Gunnar with a told-you-so grin before he got onto the elevator. Maybe Gunnar would be expelled from this community after all, but he couldn't let Aida stay here. He'd have to fight for his right to see her. He'd been keeping up his end of the bargain with the lessons and telling them about the break-in.

"I apologize for upsetting Travis. Melinda and I were studying, just as Mr. Dugin requested. If it bothers him that much, I could find another tutor or just stop."

The man said nothing and took long, slow strides to a desk with a crystal container and a few crystal glasses on a tray. He placed a few ice cubes in a glass and turned back to Gunnar. "Would you care for a scotch?"

Gunnar frowned. "I'm seventeen."

"Given what you've done already, I doubt a glass of scotch will be your undoing."

Gunnar squeezed the skin above his knees with his hands. So this really was some kind of trial. The man was still focused on unscrewing the top of the glass bottle.

"Please, Sir-"

"Karl," the man supplied as he poured the amber liquid over the ice cubes with a steady hand.

"I wouldn't have needed to come here and break all your rules if you hadn't taken my sister away."

Karl poured another glass but didn't add anything funny to it from what Gunnar could tell. Not that Gunnar planned on drinking it. The smell of alcohol had always overwhelmed him when his mother drank it. Countless of his worst memories were drenched in that stench. Gunnar forced his thoughts back. Karl still hadn't opened his mouth, but Gunnar knew this technique. He wouldn't keep revealing details without knowing what Karl's intentions were.

Karl walked over, his shiny brown shoes squished the pale carpet. He extended one of the glasses to Gunnar, whose hand shook as he received the glass.

"Cheers," Karl said and clinked the glasses together.

Gunnar tried to lift the glass to his lips but the scent hit him like a strike to the jaw. His body tensed, and he set the glass down on the mirror-like coaster.

"Some cultures would find your actions quite rude. But given your background, I can forgive your aversion. I understand your mother was an addict." Karl relaxed into an armchair.

Sweat coated Gunnar's palms. How did Karl know this? Did he interrogate Aida? Had he put her in danger to get to Gunnar?

"Where'd you hear that?"

"As you're aware, we met with your sister, before the disasters. We met also you and your mother, who is hardly subtle."

Gunnar bit his lip thinking back to the men who his mother had let interview Aida for some kind of special place for her to thrive. His mom was torn between losing the child support checks and having one less mouth to feed. Gunnar ripped up the forms when they were all sleeping and threatened the interviewers weeks later when they came to check up on Aida. No one was going to take away his sister.

"We had wanted her to join us sooner, so she wouldn't have to witness her own mother's death. Trauma can be so damaging to a promising young mind."

Gunnar looked down at his new, plain, black shoes. Why had he left her alone? If he had been there, they wouldn't have taken Aida. He might have been able to shield her from their mother's death or avoid it altogether.

"Is that why I haven't been allowed to see her?"

Karl swirled the liquid in his glass then took a sip. "You haven't earned the right to see her. Your one-sided view of this facility makes it dangerous for the two of you to interact. She'll accept your biased views and reject the stability and future she could have here."

That didn't seem fair, Gunnar thought. Mr. Dugin had made it seem like if he put this week of studying in then he'd get that chance. But Karl's room showed far more of an in-command vibe than anything Mr. Dugin had. Karl sat down in the wide armchair across from Gunnar.

"What do I have to do to see her?"

"You'll have to start learning the success stories of our facility instead of spending so much time with my son's girlfriend."

"How do I do that?"

"With my help."

"Thank you, Karl."

Gunnar had a feeling Karl wanted to learn as much about him as he wanted to teach about this place, so he'd be best to take everything in as quietly as he could. He'd only heard scary things from Matt and the others, but maybe there were some reasons for them. Maybe a war was coming. But it still wasn't worth revealing what any of them had learned. Playing dumb rarely got him in real trouble he couldn't get out of.

Karl chuckled. "You may look just like Travis, but the two of you couldn't be more different."

Gunnar would have thanked him again, but he didn't want to mistake this as a compliment and accidentally insult his son. Karl finished his scotch and leaned back in his chair. His eyes examined Gunnar's face for at least the third time. Did he have something on his nose? Gunnar wondered.

"I imagine you would like to start as soon as possible."

Yes! Gunnar wanted to yell, but he settled on, "whenever is most convenient for you."

"There's no time like the present."