Jonas and Apollon are still gone when I arrive home, even though Neveah's back from the market already. First Apollon, then a while later Jonas, returns, and Miranda passes out our meager rations.
Because it's already getting late, it doesn't take long before someone asks the inevitable question: Where is Oscar?
"Matt's," I say, as firmly as I can. All eyes turn on me. Even Neveah's widen. I avoid their gazes, choosing instead to look at the single bite of stale bread that comprises my dinner. The sight of it reinforces my conviction. I pick it up and hold it between thumb and forefinger at eye level. "I don't suppose you all think it's better for him to live like this." My voice is all acid, thick with confrontation. My friends stare at me, and I stare back. Apollon curses, gets up, and throws on his jacket.
I beat him to the door.
"Move, Eden."
"Where are you going?" I insist, pressing my back against the door, tilting my chin up at him defiantly.
"Where do you think?" He takes me by the shoulders and moves me gently but firmly out of the way. "I'm going to get Oscar," he says as he deposits me to one side and reaches for the doorknob.
I cling to his arm. "You can't," I say. "Please. Apollon. Please."
He's cursing again as he tries unsuccessfully to claim his arm. He slides out of his jacket to escape me. I prepare to bolt after him out the door.
"For god sakes, Eden," Jonas says, across the room, "let him go. Did you really think we'd all be like, OK? Sure? Give Oscar to Matthew? No problem?"
I don't know if it's Apollon's leaving, or Jonas' turning against me, or if it's something I've been holding in all along, but I explode. "Are you going to feed him then?" I shriek at him. Apollon's very empty plate is on the table beside me. I fling it across the room. "Because he's starving!" I scream. "Starving! And none of us can help him!"
It's Miranda, then, that has her arms around me as I find myself sinking into a crouch on the floor, curling into a ball. My face and hair are already wet with tears. "He's so skinny," I sob against her. "Like he's going to break. He's so skinny." I can't stop crying. Miranda's arms tighten around me, and that small act of understanding wrenches all the pain upward where it spills out in waves of sobs. I no longer have the will to fight it.
Behind us, the door closes. I curl up tighter against Miranda, whimpering at the thought of Apollon going after Oscar. At the thought of failing him, after everything. But a hand that is too large to be Miranda's brushes briefly over my hair, and footsteps lead across the room followed by the sound of a large body easing down onto the couch. Apollon hasn't gone, after all. No one speaks. There's just me and my half-squashed sobs, trailing off until, sometime later, I'm asleep on our floor with my head in Miranda's lap.