I printed out the best-looking photo of him, a joke he’d posted, and some information about his siblings. Sorry, Warner. I swear, it wasn’t me you died for.

With that complete, I was able to turn my mind to something a little more fun. I had learned over the years to balance out each devastating piece of my scrapbook with something joyful. Last night, it was looking at dresses before pasting in the last of Kerry’s pictures. Today, it was cakes. I found the culinary section and hoisted a stack of books to an empty space on the third floor. I pored over recipes, fondant work, construction. I built imaginary cakes, one at a time, indulging in the most consistent of my daydreams. The first, a classic vanilla and buttercream with pale-blue frosting and little white poppies. Three tiers. Very lovely. The next was five tiers, square, with black ribbon and costume jewelry broaches aligned vertically on the front. A bit more appropriate for an evening wedding.

“You having a party?”

I looked up to see a scruffy, blond-haired boy pushing a cart full of books. He had a flimsy name tag I couldn’t read and was wearing the standard college-boy uniform of khaki pants and a button-up shirt with his sleeves cuffed around his elbows. No one tried anymore.

I held back my sigh. It was unavoidable, this part of the sentence. We were meant to draw people in, and men were particularly susceptible.

I looked down again without answering, hoping he’d take the hint. I hadn’t chosen to sit at the back of the top floor because I felt like socializing.

“You look stressed. You could probably use a party.”

I couldn’t hold back my smirk. He had no idea. Unfortunately, he took that little smile as an invitation to continue.

He ran his hand through his hair, the modern-day equivalent of “Good day, miss,” and pointed at the books. “My mom says the secret to making good baked stuff is to use a warm bowl. Not that I’d know. I can hardly make cereal without burning it.”

His grin suggested that this was a little too true, and I was slightly charmed as he bashfully tucked a hand in his pocket.

It was a pity, really. I knew he meant no harm, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But I was about to resort to the rudest move I had and simply walk away when he pulled that same hand back out and extended it to me.

“I’m Akinli, by the way,” he said, waiting for me to respond. I gawked at him, not used to people pressing past my silence. “I know it’s weird.” He’d misread my confusion. “Family name. Kind of. It was a last name on my mom’s side of the family.”

He kept his palm outstretched, waiting. Typically my response would be to flee. But there was something about this boy that seemed . . . different. Maybe it was how his lips lifted into a smile without him seeming to even think about it, or the way his voice rolled warmly out of him like clouds. I felt certain snubbing him would end up hurting my feelings more than his, that I’d regret it.

Cautiously, as if I might break us both, I took his hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice how cool my skin was.

“And you are?” he prompted.

I sighed, sure this would end the conversation despite my kindest intentions. I signed my name, and his eyes widened.

“Oh, wow. So have you just been reading my lips this whole time?”

I shook my head.

“You can hear?”

I nodded.

“But you can’t speak. . . . Umm, okay.” He started patting at his pockets as I tried to fight the dread creeping down my spine. Unlike Miaka and Elizabeth, I didn’t find getting this close to humans exciting. It only meant I was in a realm where I might break the rules.

There weren’t many rules, but they were absolute. Stay silent in the presence of others, until it was time to sing. When the time came to sing, do it without hesitation. When we weren’t singing, do nothing to expose our secret.

“Here we go,” he announced, pulling out a pen. “I don’t have any paper, so you’ll have to write on my hand.”

I stared at his skin, debating. Which name should I use? The one on the driver’s license Miaka bought me online? The one I’d used to rent our current beach house? The one I’d used in the last town we’d stayed in? I had a hundred names to choose from.

Perhaps foolishly, I gave him my real one.

“Kahlen?” he read off his skin.

I nodded.

“That’s pretty. Nice to meet you.”

I gave him a thin smile, still uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to do small talk.

“That’s really cool that you’re going to a traditional school even though you use sign language. I thought I was brave just getting out of state.” He laughed at himself.

Even with how uneasy I was feeling, I admired his effort to keep the conversation going. It was more than most people would do in his situation. He pointed at the books again. “So, uh, if you ever have that party and need some help with your cake, I swear I could get my act together long enough not to ruin everything.”

I raised one eyebrow at him.

“I’m serious!” He laughed like I’d told a joke. “Anyway, good luck with that. See you around.”

He waved sheepishly, then continued pushing his cart down the aisle. I watched him go. I knew I’d remember his hair, a mess that looked windswept even in stillness, and the kindness in his eyes. And I’d hate myself for holding on to those details if he ever crossed my path on one of those dark days, days like those on which Kerry or Warner had encountered me.

Still, I was grateful. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt so human.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PHOTO BY ROBBIE POFF

KIERA CASS is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Selection series, as well as the self-published fantasy novel The Siren. She is a graduate of Radford University and currently lives in Blacksburg, Virginia, with her family. Kiera has kissed approximately fourteen boys in her life. None of them were princes. You can learn more about Kiera’s books, videos, and love of cake online at www.kieracass.com.

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BOOKS BY KIERA CASS

The Selection

The Elite

The One

The Heir

The Selection Stories: The Prince & The Guard

The Queen & The Favorite

Happily Ever After: Companion to the Selection Series

The Selection Series Sampler

The Selection Series 3-Book Collection