me. Did Wendy’s parents even know what she was doing? Had Marion convinced her to run away from home, to join her on this complicated, uncertain quest? Maybe Wendy had a simple, genuine need to help. An unadulterated hope for change.
But such things were rarely enough.
I wanted, so badly, to tell Wendy to be careful. Of who she trusted. Of the decisions she made with nothing but good intentions.
Marion put out her hands, palm up. “We’re on the same side. Please, help me, and let me help you.”
Addie laughed bitterly.
We’re on the same side.
This is me looking out for you.
They were all things Sabine had said to us while she betrayed us. We wouldn’t fall for pretty words again.
A hand brushed against our shoulder. Dr. Lyanne. She glanced at Marion, then back to us.
“Give us a moment,” she said as she directed Addie and me toward the kitchen door. She didn’t let us stop walking until we’d reached the far end of the living room. Peter was already there, standing stiffly by the stairs.
Dr. Lyanne’s grip tightened on our shoulder. “We have to leave. Go tell Jaime and the others. Get everyone to pack.”
“What?” Addie said. We hadn’t even recovered from the shock of Marion’s proposal. Now we were being hit with something else. “Why? What’s happened?”
“It’s Emalia,” Dr. Lyanne said quietly. Her eyes bore into ours, forced us to keep steady. “Something’s wrong.”
We’d prepared for this. We’d hoped it would never happen, but Peter was Peter, and we’d prepared.
Ryan met us at the top of the stairs, appearing from the darkness of the unlit hallway.
“We have to go,” Addie said before he could speak. “Emalia never made it back from dropping Henri off. She should have checked in with one of Peter’s contacts more than an hour ago.”
I saw him swallow down questions. We’d never physically drilled what we would do in case Something Went Wrong, but the steps had run through our minds more than enough times. Extraneous questions were not on the list.
He allowed himself one: “And Henri?”
Addie shook our head. “Can’t be sure. Peter’s contact checked out the area. There was some kind of investigation going on. Both Henri and Emalia are missing—together, separately . . . we don’t know.” She swallowed, throat tight. “Go get Kitty and Jaime. They’re probably in the attic.”
With Emalia and Henri possibly detained, there was no telling what the government might already know—or find out. This house was no longer safe.
In less than half an hour, we wiped the place clean of our existence. It wasn’t hard. Each of us had arrived with no more than a single suitcase. The nuances and necessities of our lives folded right back where we’d stored them. A few changes of clothes. Some toiletries. A small notebook Addie had found at a bus station and doodled in.
Almost everything had been given to us by people in Peter’s network. Men and women we’d never met who helped us sneak from city to city, state to state. Addie and I had a small shoulder bag, denim and old-fashioned. We packed the most important things in there now, so we could always have them with us: Henri’s satellite phone, copies of our false identifications, some spare cash for emergencies, the little round chip Ryan had given us before leaving for Nornand. Addie slipped Darcie Grey’s picture inside as well—and, after a breath of hesitation, the cartridge containing the footage of Jackson’s arrest.
“Are they coming with us?” Hally whispered as we carried our luggage out to the van. “The girl and the reporter lady, I mean.”
Addie shrugged. The others were already stacking suitcases in the van’s trunk. Peter stood a little ways down the driveway, speaking with Marion. Wendy lingered beside them. Her eyes found ours as soon as we approached.
I said.
But such things were rarely enough.
I wanted, so badly, to tell Wendy to be careful. Of who she trusted. Of the decisions she made with nothing but good intentions.
Marion put out her hands, palm up. “We’re on the same side. Please, help me, and let me help you.”
Addie laughed bitterly.
We’re on the same side.
This is me looking out for you.
They were all things Sabine had said to us while she betrayed us. We wouldn’t fall for pretty words again.
A hand brushed against our shoulder. Dr. Lyanne. She glanced at Marion, then back to us.
“Give us a moment,” she said as she directed Addie and me toward the kitchen door. She didn’t let us stop walking until we’d reached the far end of the living room. Peter was already there, standing stiffly by the stairs.
Dr. Lyanne’s grip tightened on our shoulder. “We have to leave. Go tell Jaime and the others. Get everyone to pack.”
“What?” Addie said. We hadn’t even recovered from the shock of Marion’s proposal. Now we were being hit with something else. “Why? What’s happened?”
“It’s Emalia,” Dr. Lyanne said quietly. Her eyes bore into ours, forced us to keep steady. “Something’s wrong.”
We’d prepared for this. We’d hoped it would never happen, but Peter was Peter, and we’d prepared.
Ryan met us at the top of the stairs, appearing from the darkness of the unlit hallway.
“We have to go,” Addie said before he could speak. “Emalia never made it back from dropping Henri off. She should have checked in with one of Peter’s contacts more than an hour ago.”
I saw him swallow down questions. We’d never physically drilled what we would do in case Something Went Wrong, but the steps had run through our minds more than enough times. Extraneous questions were not on the list.
He allowed himself one: “And Henri?”
Addie shook our head. “Can’t be sure. Peter’s contact checked out the area. There was some kind of investigation going on. Both Henri and Emalia are missing—together, separately . . . we don’t know.” She swallowed, throat tight. “Go get Kitty and Jaime. They’re probably in the attic.”
With Emalia and Henri possibly detained, there was no telling what the government might already know—or find out. This house was no longer safe.
In less than half an hour, we wiped the place clean of our existence. It wasn’t hard. Each of us had arrived with no more than a single suitcase. The nuances and necessities of our lives folded right back where we’d stored them. A few changes of clothes. Some toiletries. A small notebook Addie had found at a bus station and doodled in.
Almost everything had been given to us by people in Peter’s network. Men and women we’d never met who helped us sneak from city to city, state to state. Addie and I had a small shoulder bag, denim and old-fashioned. We packed the most important things in there now, so we could always have them with us: Henri’s satellite phone, copies of our false identifications, some spare cash for emergencies, the little round chip Ryan had given us before leaving for Nornand. Addie slipped Darcie Grey’s picture inside as well—and, after a breath of hesitation, the cartridge containing the footage of Jackson’s arrest.
“Are they coming with us?” Hally whispered as we carried our luggage out to the van. “The girl and the reporter lady, I mean.”
Addie shrugged. The others were already stacking suitcases in the van’s trunk. Peter stood a little ways down the driveway, speaking with Marion. Wendy lingered beside them. Her eyes found ours as soon as we approached.
I said.
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