I've read books that talk about heartbreak, and I've always thought it was metaphorical, over the top.

But my heart really does feel like it's breaking.

It's a constant pain in my chest, like everything inside me is tearing apart, over and over and over again, and nothing I can do will make it stop.

I tell myself that I've overreacted.

I tell myself that I'm still too new to this romance thing, that I just don't understand.

But it would have been so easy for Roan to deny everything, and he didn't because it's true. The person that I have come to care more for than anyone in the whole world, the person that I have been giving my heart to, has lied to me. He's used me.

What hurts the most is the awful truth in what I said to him.

For all his talk of Seconds' rights, he himself didn't truly see me as a person.

All this time, I have thought that he is the one person who's been blind to my status as a Second, blind to my scars, and maybe in a way he is, but what does that matter when he has still been using me?

It feels like the sun has been snuffed out.

There is only grey now, bleak and cold.

I want to scream.

I want to tear out my heart so it doesn't hurt anymore.

But I can't do that. I can't even cry, at least not anything more than muffled sobs into my pillow at night, because I still don't dare tell my friends what has been going on.

I meant what I said – I'm still going to help Roan and Rosie, because this is bigger than me and my stupid broken heart. Too many Seconds are depending on what Beyond is trying to do and I'm not going to throw that away out of hurt or anger or spite.

On some level, I even understand why Roan lied. This is his cause, his passion, the thing he truly believes in – and it is a good cause. The laws regarding Seconds don't personally affect him, and he could easily do what so many others do, and just ignore it. But he doesn't. He believes in a better world, for the oppressed and maligned, and he is willing to fight for them. For us.

That passion is one of the reasons I've fallen for him.

His heart is as bright as the sun and as clear as the stars.

Except for the dark spot regarding me.

Lying to me to ensure my cooperation was not done out of malice, I know that. It was a strategic move. Roan is trying to help Seconds any way he can.

But understanding doesn't change the bone-deep sense of betrayal.

The worst part is that I can't stop thinking about our days together.

Memories relentlessly churn in my head. I think about his hard muscles beneath my palms, his soft lips against mine. I think about what it feels like to run my fingers through his hair, like I'm catching the sun in my hands. I think about his voice and his eyes, as blue as my sky. I think of how he makes my pulse tremble and my heart thump. I think about how he has shown me the world.

Roan is my sky.

But it's not a sky I can fly in any more.

I don't go to the fence the next day.

I'm still going to help them, but I can't face Roan, not yet. I need time to shield my aching heart, to patch up all the areas that are raw and bleeding.

But I don't see how I can ever fully stitch them closed.

Scars on my face, scars on my heart.

A dying bird in my chest.

I drift through the day in a dream, and the only time I come alive is when the afternoon drill starts, because here is where I can push my body, where I can focus on nothing but my pounding heart-rate and working muscles, and blot out the utter chaos in my head.

I'm so focused that I lose sight of everything around me, and I don't come back to reality until I knock into a hard shoulder. I reel back, blinking.

"Watch it," Gavin growls, glaring down at me.

Anger boils.

"You watch it," I snap back.

I'm pretty sure I'm the one at fault – I wasn't paying attention, but I'm not admitting that to him.

Gavin smiles, but it's cruel, ugly. "What – didn't you learn your lesson last time?"

He obviously didn't. What's the point of Isolation if it doesn't fix anything? It's just one more thing about this place that's broken.

For a brief span, we stand there, glaring at each other.

"It's like you want me to hurt you," Gavin says.

His words take me aback, because I think there's a dark little part of me that does, because any physical pain might distract me from the pain in my heart.

I don't have time to process that.

Gavin shoves me hard, and I stumble back, my feet slipping on the ground.

"Get your ugly face out of my way," he sneers.

The world turns red.

I'm angry because Roan isn't who I thought he was.

I'm angry because the first person I think I could truly have loved has turned out to be a liar.

I'm angry because the confidence he helped me find is based on those lies.

I'm angry that the CC exists.

I'm angry that the world hates us, lets us suffer.

I'm angry that people like Gavin choose to be cruel.

I'm angry.

Angry.

Angry.

I hit him suddenly, with my shoulder, but I put my whole body weight behind it, and it knocks him off balance, and as he goes down on one knee, I grab his hand and bend two fingers back until he gasps.

"I don't like you," I say in a low, hard voice. "And I'm getting really tired of your shit. Leave me alone or next time I will break your fingers."

Shock wars with rage in his eyes.

I let him go, pushing him hard enough that he falls to the ground. He's up in an instant, face reddening, and I brace, ready for him to take a swing, still almost wanting him to, but before he can do anything, Ripley is there.

"That's enough," she says, so calm that she almost sounds bored.

Gavin's eyes flick to her, sparking with rage, and for a moment I actually think he's going to defy her.

Ripley thinks so too; she drops a hand to the baton at her belt. "I would strongly reconsider that if I were you," she warns.

She's not afraid of him.

She stands tall and calm, straight-backed and square-shouldered, and if Gavin makes a move against her she will beat him into the ground.

I actually wouldn't mind seeing that.

"Go," Ripley says, dismissing him.

After giving me one last glare, he does. Maybe that's not the end of this, but I can't find it in me to care.

Ripley looks at me, her stare shrewd, assessing, and I can't interpret what I see there, but I don't think I like it.

I wait for her to reprimand me, but instead she just gives a little nod and then moves on.

Unease chills me. I don't know how much she saw, but it was enough that I shouldn't have got away with it like that, not without Ripley saying anything.

She must have had her reasons for not punishing me.

The question is: what are they?