Katelyn returned to her family's corner of the caves the same time she usually did: Late. She always retreated when she saw the hint of orange in the skies outside, and in the hour it took her to scurry down the right passages, the group that her family was a part of was already setting up supper. Not that they wouldn't wait for her. They always waited for her. Who else could add that extra little pile of meat to the meal? It was the same every night. They'd look up when she arrived, smile, and ask her what she'd caught. Then she'd happily present them with a pile of squirrels, rats, mice, and rabbits. She could do whatever she wanted as long as she brought some of her treasures home as payment for it. They didn't like it when she didn't listen, but they liked having extra meat more than they didn.t like her not listening. Her parents used to yell at her, but she'd shown them too. "You'll get hurt," father said. She never did. "Something will eat you!" Mr. Rodd said. She never even saw anything big enough to do that. "One day, you won't come back," mother said. She always did. They were all just silly, but they had learned that they were wrong, and they had stopped. Now they were just happy to see her every night. The stew was tended by her sister, Felidor. Mother chopped the mushrooms and the carrots, and Feli made sure that she never stopped stirring; otherwise little bits and pieces would stick to the pot. Father was the one that cut the meat. He had taught Felidor how a long time ago, but why would she do it if he was better at it anyway? Besides, she hated the feeling of dry, sticky, blood on her hands, and unlike the water underground, all the rivers above were freezing. Sometimes there were even ice bits in them! And if there was no handwashing up there, then there was no way she was getting sticky blood on her hands. In five minutes, all of Katelyn's meat was in the pot, and in ten, and the pot was brought out to join the circle. Her family's nightly contribution to the evening meal. Everyone was already there at the stone table. There were forty-four people. They sat down at their usual spots. Like always, Felidor was on her left, and on her right was David: her stupid boring friend-acquaintance thing that never said anything. Unless he was right.