Those two were the only ones still walking like nothing was happening. So Natalie called out again, louder this time. "I'm talkin' to you two! Yeah, you dumbasses playing ghost with bedsheets—freeze!" That bitch! Did she just insult me? Rosalie instantly lost it. She nearly threw off the sheet and stormed over to rip Natalie's mouth clean off her face. She hadn't even wanted to sneak around like this, that was all Lillian's idea. If it were up to her, she would've charged right up and clawed Natalie's face to shreds. None of this hide-and-slink bullshit. What was there to be scared of anymore? She had nothing left to lose. No future, no safety, no pride. Hell, even giving Natalie one of her nasty infections would've felt like a win at this point. The second Rosalie reached to throw off the sheet, Lillian's heart nearly exploded from panic. Is this girl insane?! Natalie was holding a gun. A real one. She'd literally just blown someone's head off. This wasn't a damn joke. If they confronted her head-on, they were as good as dead. Lillian yanked Rosalie back with everything she had, one hand clamped tightly over her daughter's mouth through the sheet, the other dragging her forward as fast as she could. Rosalie fought her like hell, and Lillian held on even harder. Natalie watched the two of them squirming and shoving under their sheets like some kind of giant tangled worms. The sight was so ridiculous she actually had to stop herself from laughing. She and Cassian were standing right near the stairwell. If anyone wanted out of the labor camp, they'd have to walk right past them. And now the "sheet ghosts" were getting way too close to the exit. Natalie stepped forward and blocked their path with her rifle. "You two deaf or just stupid?" Lillian froze in place, drenched in sweat. She cleared her throat and tried to make her voice sound innocent. "Were you ... talking to me?" Oh, cute. She wants to play dumb. Natalie raised an eyebrow. "Cut the crap. Take the sheet off." Rosalie thrashed even harder. Natalie was right there! She was this close—close enough to scratch her face up, infect her with all the disgusting shit crawling on her skin. Then let's see if Cassian would still look at her with those soft, loving eyes. Let's see how sweet he'd be then. Lillian held her down with all her strength, soaked in sweat from head to toe. This damn kid was going to be the death of her. Their cover had been fine—until Rosalie started squirming like a lunatic and brought attention straight to them. "The sheet ... We can't take it off ... " she blurted, grasping at the first excuse that popped into her head. Her voice was pinched and raspy. "We—we're infected. It's all over us, even our faces ... open sores. We didn't want to scare you." She took a step back for dramatic effect. "Please, stay back, miss. You don't want to catch this ... " Infected, huh? Natalie looked them up and down. She had seen some of the women earlier with strange skin conditions. Given the nature of this place, it made sense. The Grayhound Sect bastards definitely weren't handing out condoms, so once someone got sick, it probably spread like wildfire through the whole damn labor camp. But none of the other sick girls had wrapped themselves up like mummies.Seriously, who the hell takes time to protect others' feelings during an escape? Natalie narrowed her eyes, keeping the rifle aimed steady. "Funny ... your voice sounds kinda familiar." Lillian's heart skipped a beat. No freaking way. She'd pitched her voice so high, how could she still recognize it? She quickly cleared her throat and switched tones again. "You must be mistaken, miss! I've never seen you before in my life." And, for good measure, she added a little flattery. "A pretty girl like you? If I'd ever met you, I definitely would've remembered." Natalie almost burst out laughing. This one was just choking on her fake voice a second ago, and now she's suddenly channeling cartoon princess mode? Natalie raised the rifle and pressed the barrel right against Lillian's forehead. Then, mimicking her fake voice in an even more exaggerated, bubbly tone, she said, "Oooh, do you want me to blow your brains out?" Lillian froze, eyes wide, and threw her hands up in the air. "No, no, no—please! Don't!" The second that voice came out—her real voice—Natalie's eyes narrowed. Her smile dropped. "Lillian?" She knew that voice. Knew it like a scar. Of course. No wonder that chipmunk squeak earlier sounded so damn familiar. In her last life, right before she died, Lillian had spat all kinds of venom at her. That smug tone was burned into Natalie's brain. She'd never forget it. Before she could say anything else, Rosalie suddenly broke free. With a wild scream, she threw off the bedsheet and spread her arms like she was going to tear Natalie apart. "Aaahhh! Natalie! I'll kill you!"She charged straight at her. But Natalie was faster. She whipped the rifle around and pulled the trigger. Bang! Rosalie's eyes went wide as her body jerked backward and slammed to the ground. Natalie hadn't had time to aim—Rosalie came at her too fast, too close. So the bullet didn't hit anything vital. But at that range, even a glancing shot did serious damage. Rosalie's shoulder was torn to shreds, blood pouring down her side. She collapsed hard, her arms too wrecked to break the fall, and her head slammed against the floor with a brutal crack. Lillian screamed and tore the sheet off her body, scrambling to her daughter. "Rosalie! Rosalie! Baby, no! Don't scare Mommy like that!" Natalie still had the rifle up, eyes cold and locked on Lillian. Her face was stone.