"No, and unless someone's managed to actually keep it a secret, I don't think anyone else has, either," I answer, glancing over to Oliver. We're not really acquainted beyond the typical village pleasantries, but he's always struck me as a capable guy. I don't know if we're going to need especially capable guys to get through whatever this is, but it definitely doesn't hurt.

"People have gotten letters," I clarify, scrubbing a hand over my newly-cut hair. "But they were always given a choice. The content was always a suggestion. This is a directive."

Maybe I've been here too long, maybe I've finally become a cynic, because despite the implication of what's written on the board, I just can't picture any of this being strictly altruistic. The list is too specific for that, and I can't help wondering why they're wanting us out of town.