He never imagined how homesick it would make him to stare at the familiar scene from hundreds of kilometers away. It was unsettling to see the moon so tiny and featureless, like waking up to find that your family’s faces had been erased. Sitting at the campfire around him, the others were grumbling. They’d been on Earth less than a week, and already their rations were dwindling. The fact that they had no medicine was troubling, but right now the bigger concern was the food supply. Either the Colony miscalculated their provisions, or Graham and his friends had been hoarding more than he’d realized. Either way, the effects were already beginning to show. It wasn’t just the hollows forming under their cheekbones—there was a hunger in their eyes that terrified Wells. He could never let himself forget that they’d all been Confined for a reason, that everyone surrounding him had done something to endanger the Colony. Wells most of all. Just then, Clarke emerged from the infirmary tent and walked toward the campfire, her eyes skimming the circle as she searched for a spot.
