Last time on Matched.com, Cassia finally entertains the idea of outright rebellion, but decides she can’t because of Ky. Fucking Ky.

She wakes up to screaming sounds that turn out to be people chainsawing down all the maple trees.

The next morning I wake to a shrieking so high and keening that I bolt straight out of bed, tearing the sleep tags from my skin.

The saw bites into the trunk of our maple tree, slices through so fast and clean that at first I think nothing happened except the scream. The tree seems fine for a brief moment, but it is dead as it stands. Then it falls.

Not really how you remove residential trees.

I look at our tree, at its leaves still reaching for the sun, still working to turn light into food. They don’t know they are dead yet.

I like this, it’s always what upsets me when I see felled trees.

Everyone’s outside looking shellshocked. Cassia demands to know why. Her dad explains that the tree leaves are messy and the trees aren’t homogeneous enough between yards. For example, her friend’s tree was pretty sickly and small.

“It’s not as bad for Em,” I say. “Her tree isn’t as much of a loss.”

Because I guess people have blinders on so they can’t enjoy seeing trees outside their own yard.

Her mother’s obviously upset, and suddenly blurts out that this is a warning, and before Cassia or her father can apologize, says she’s the one being warned.

I don’t think the warning is for my mother.

How would you know? Your mother doesn’t know they’re mad at you, so you wouldn’t know why if they’re mad at her. You may be correct (although killing the trees is something that makes more sense as something done to hurt her) as we don’t know what she did or how much they care, but what you should be paying attention to is that your mother did do something.

But in any case, this is like the bit about the fake infraction (and how did she even handle returning? Did she announce it was an error? How does doing that kind of thing help keep your society stable?) but even more so. As far as I can tell, the government has absolute power. All the laws are from the government restricting the people. We know the government can cancel leisure time and there’s been no mention that they can only cancel just so much, so presumably no one has the right to that. The closest we’ve gotten to the idea they can’t just give citations and infractions at a whim is that Cassia asked what her specific infraction was, and that was really more asking what the reason was than any suggestion they couldn’t hand one out for slovenly breathing if they felt like it.

She then starts talking about her dream last night, which was all about the scene in Ky’s drawing. She wants to know how he escaped, because clearly drawing yourself handcuffed and surrounded by officials could only be a literal depiction and not how Ky feels. Since it’s come out of Cassia’s head, I guess that maybe we are supposed to assume it happened and he, dunno, talked his way out of it?

Then it’s time for hiking, yet again. Hiking hiking hiking. Instead of worldbuilding, we’ve spent half the book about the characters walking through the woods. They’re not Sisyphus, the reader is.

It only takes a few seconds in the forest before I lose control and I have to ask him. I put my hand on his arm

God damn it, Cassia.

Also, this is why it’s impossible to believe this is a standard dictatorship. Just try to compare this to the Soviets. Kids were taught very young to not do anything in public that might look bad to officials. Like smiling or displaying any emotion at all. Cassia can’t even talk to him without friendly touches?

And what’s her subject matter? That officials know about it. And them. Which, remember, is mostly limited to their hiking time together, so there’s a good chance someone might be watching right now.

Ky says they talked to him too. She doesn’t get why he’s so chill about this, and by explanation, he gives her a piece of printed paper with a poem on it, by Dylan Thomas of not going gently into the night fame.

“It’s not the whole thing. I could only afford part of a stanza.”

Cassia’s first thought is how he could afford it, not since when poetry was a thing you could buy. And she’s so overcome by emotion she starts crying and asks him to read it instead.

The poem is about a birthday, I don’t care and I don’t think it’ll be relevant outside the romance area of the plot. Then Ky kisses her on the cheek.

I think of the cottonwood seeds brushing against me that day on the air train. Soft, light, full of promise.

I think I wouldn’t hate all this if it were chapters ago, but come now, we’re in the final third of the book, plus she’s just been told horrible things happen if she doesn’t break it off with Ky. And yet we just get yet another shippy hiking chapter, like nothing happened.