My name is Sinna Reardon. I suppose deep down I'd like to believe God exists. But he doesn't, not since the war. Most days I'm okay with that. Jacob calls me a pessimist, but I'm a realist. How can I believe when a place like Rehabilitation and a regime like the Elite exist, dictating our every move? If God were so great, he'd do something. But he hasn't. We're forgotten. And that scares me, because it means I might have to do something myself.
"Wish it was longer"