RIVAL’S POV
They think I sleep.
They think I eat in the mess hall like the rest of them. Sit at tables. Make small talk. Blink too long. Breathe too loud.
But I don’t.
I trained myself to act like them — not be them.
So whoever marked me for elimination clearly forgot what they were dealing with.
Because I don’t trust.
I don’t forgive.
And I don’t wait for the knife to hit before I bite.
The moment I walked back from training that night and noticed the edge of my blanket folded differently — I knew someone had been in my bunk.
Not Thomas. He was assigned to a long-range endurance trial, 10-hour crawl through freezing trenches with live terrain mines. He wouldn’t be back until morning. And Thomas never touched my things, not unless I gave him a reason. I hadn’t.
So the fact that
