She's beginning to learn every road leads to the same destination. Jess' fingertips don't seem as rough as her own, or as scarred, but she's beginning to realise the boy she thought to be a little soft around the edges may not be at all.

People taking her by surprise isn't something she often likes. The last time someone surprised her, she'd lost her entire family to her own knife.

Uncertain of her own theory, Raven thinks back on the Mountain Men. They'd remained in the shadows, unseen, unheard, merely a whisper of some story Lincoln liked to speak of from time to time. They hadn't made themselves known when they'd first landed on the ground, but had bided their time. The delinquents hadn't been prepared for them, and she's beginning to understand why.

"They're afraid of us knowing who they are," she says, gesturing to the boxes with a shrug of one shoulder. "If we know who they are, they lose some sort of power. If one of us knows who they are, everything begins to unravel. That's why there's nothing on the crates or weapons. We can't prepare a plan for someone we don't know. We're going to waste our time preparing for all these possibilities instead."