She nods. Okay, that's something. At least she isn't the only one who feels mortified when they have to utter the word "sorry."

And then: You have siblings, don't you?

Clarisse screws up her face, trying to think of a way to answer the question honestly but without making it sound unhinged. There really isn't one.

"Technically, yes. But I didn't grow up with them. We only got brought to camp once we were old enough, and we all lived together there, but it wasn't like..." She shrugs one shoulder. A family. "We were like an army."

A small army. Made up entirely of teenagers.

"I wouldn't apologize to one of them any more than Flint would apologize to me."