“What?” he repeats as I stare at him.
“What do you mean, ‘after the lockdown’?”
“Well, I can’t teach you while I’m in the Lyceum and you’re up here.”
“You’re going to go through with the lockdown after everything we learned about the Unity Centers? What about your dad?”
“My dad would want me to do what’s necessary for the Stewards—”
“Your dad would want you to do what you think is right.”
“And you think you know what that is?” Atlas shakes his head and turns into the alley that leads to my house. I have to race to keep up with his long strides. “You’ve been a part of this world for a handful of days. I’ve been living it my entire life. The Stewards have lasted longer than anyone else who knows the truth. There’s a reason for that. If you bothered to read the section on World War Two you’d know that.”
“I did read it,” I shoot back. “I know all the groups that tried to get people out of Germany or were actively pushing back against the government were hunted down.”
“I rest my case,” Atlas says as we reach the gate that leads to my backyard. “Look, I appreciate everything you did today. For me and for my dad.” He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair off my face. “You’re not what I thought you were going to be when I sent you your ticket.”
“What did you think I was going to be?”
“Uncomplicated.” He looks down at me with an expression that is impossible to read.
“I’ll take that as a compliment?” My throat is dry, so the words sound low and uncertain.
“I meant it as one. You’re unexpected, Meri.” Atlas gives me a smile that spreads slowly from his lips up to his eyes, and my stomach flips.
Rose’s ringtone sings in the air, killing the moment.
“Sorry,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “I have to answer this.” If I don’t, Rose will just keep calling until I do.
Giving Atlas an apologetic smile, I put the phone to my ear and barely have the chance to say hello before I hear Rose say, “Meri! It’s Isaac. He’s gone.”
Fourteen
Gone? “What do you mean Isaac is gone?”
“He answered a call just after Mom and I got home and said he had to meet a friend for just a few minutes. He was late. Mom wasn’t worried because you know how Isaac is, but then . . .”
“What?”
“One of our neighbors brought us his phone. She found it under a bush at the corner. Mom and Dad are at the police station now, and I’m here in case he comes back or someone calls, but I feel like I should be doing something and I don’t know what to do.” In all the years I’ve known Rose, she’s never sounded panicked. She does now.
“I’ll be right there.” My hands are cold and shaking as I shove the phone into my pocket and look at Atlas. “My friend’s brother is missing. I have to go.”
Atlas assures me he’ll have my bike retrieved from the park so I don’t have to worry about it, but my bicycle is the last thing on my mind as I hurry through my backyard to the house.
A baseball game is playing on the living room television. Dad is sleeping on the couch. I lean forward to shake him awake when I spot the empty glass on the coffee table next to him. One sniff of the dregs inside the cup tells me what I need to know—there’s no point in trying to talk to my father tonight or asking him to help look for Isaac. Even if I could wake him up, he shouldn’t be driving.
I want to scream that I need him. That Mom needed both of us and we failed her and now I may have failed Isaac. Instead, I leave a note on the message tablet about sleeping over at Rose’s house and head upstairs to get my things.
I wash off the dirt and sweat and bandage the scrapes I got facing the Marshals. Then I pull the bag of books out from under the bed and cram a change of clothes, my tablet, and stuff to stay overnight inside. With one last look at my father’s flushed face, I shrug the heavy bag onto my shoulder and go out the back door.
Every snap of a twig makes me jump. The shadows on the sidewalk have me looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is following as I hurry down the familiar streets. Once, I swear someone is there, but when I pause I see and hear no one. So I keep walking.
I pass the sidewalk where Rose and I learned to ride our bikes while Isaac teased us by zooming circles around us on his own. I can see Isaac grinning from deep in the branches of the oak tree after scaring us when we walked by. Panic builds with each step even as I think about the security ID and the archives room I accessed with that card. As I walk, I pray that Isaac will be at his house when I get there.
Please don’t let this be because of me.
Please don’t let this be because of me.
This can’t be because of me.
When Rose opens the door, the hope that this will all be over is shattered. The pain in her eyes punches into my chest and steals my breath. I do the only thing I can. I throw my arms around her and hold tight.
Her tears shatter me. Each shudder. Each strangled attempt to rein in the fear. I want to cry with her, but I can’t. The weight of the ID I stole from Isaac is heavy in my pocket and my heart.
“Sorry,” Rose says, pulling away. She closes the condo door, swipes the tears from her face, and takes several deep breaths. When she turns to face me again, she has regained a large measure of her trademark steely control. “I promised myself I wouldn’t lose it. We don’t actually know anything. Isaac could be at a friend’s house. He could have just dropped his phone and didn’t notice. It’s just . . .”
“You’re scared.”
She nods and paces across the snowy-white living room carpet. “It’s stupid, right? It’s not like Isaac is the most responsible person around. He used to go off on his own all the time.”
Before the divorce no one ever knew where Isaac was. Since his dad moved out, he’s been better.
“But he has work tomorrow and he wouldn’t put that in jeopardy,” Rose continues. “The police say he hasn’t been gone long enough to consider him missing and that we shouldn’t worry.”
“Did he say anything before he left?” I ask. “Anything that might give you an idea of where he went?”
“I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t think I had to. And now he’s gone. Even Dad is worried. Dad never worries. He gets angry. But he’s not angry this time and that’s scarier than—” Her phone rings and she puts her hand on her stomach as she looks at the screen. “It’s Mom.”
She walks toward the kitchen, and I put my hand on my pocket and feel the outline of the Isaac’s security ID.
Then she returns. Her arms are wrapped tight around her chest and her jaw is clenched. “It’s that gang.”
“What?”
“The one that Dad told us about yesterday. The one that made you set off the alarm. The police say they’ve been targeting the families of government officials. Dad says a lot of them have been ransomed back, so he’s going to do what he can to—”
“He’s wrong,” I say so quietly Rose doesn’t hear. I swallow hard as my mind wars with my heart. Do I let her believe the lie or possibly put her in danger by telling her the truth?
The crack of the Marshal’s gun rings in my memory.
I don’t have to tell her what I have learned. I can keep quiet and wait and see what happens. The less she knows the safer she should be.
But as much as I want to believe that, I know it isn’t true. No one is safe in a world where asking the wrong question can get you taken and possibly killed. Rose is going to ask questions. The only way to protect her is to set the truth free and hope she can forgive me for what I have done.
“Mom’s going to work. She’s going to put Isaac’s picture up on the front of the Gloss website with a number for people to call if they have seen him. Dad’s going to get the mayor to try and contact the gang. He thinks—”
“There is no gang,” I say, raising my voice. “The gang your father described isn’t real.” My stomach clenches as my b
est friend looks square at me.
“What do you mean? You got the paper. You set off the alarm. You were there when my dad said—”
“He lied.” The words crackle. Rose jerks back, and I force myself to keep going. “There’s no gang of criminals terrorizing the city and kidnapping government officials’ kids. Your brother wasn’t taken because your dad works with the mayor.” I pull out the card I took from Isaac earlier today and hold it out to Rose. “He was taken because of me.”
“How did you get this?” she asks quietly.
“I took it from him when I was here earlier today. I needed it to get answers about my mom. I never thought anything would happen to Isaac or I wouldn’t have taken it.”
“Meri, you aren’t making any sense.”
“If you sit down, I’ll try to explain.” For years, Rose has been my friend. I have trusted her more than any other. I have no choice but to trust her now.
I’m probably breaking every Stewards’ rule in the book, but I don’t care. I tell her about following the paintings and the meaning of the word “verify.” About meeting people who are determined to save paper books and the truth they contain. I don’t tell her about the Lyceum because I don’t want to jeopardize anyone there.
Rose is silent as I pull the books from my bag and hand her the dictionary the Stewards gave me. She looks nervous taking it, as if the book itself might injure her. I wait for her to look up the word “verify.” I see her eyes narrow as she reads the definition. Then I tell her the rest. My suspicion that my mother’s accident wasn’t an accident. The search for answers and finally my decision to find the information that I believe got my mother killed.
“I know how crazy it all sounds, but it’s true.” I hand her the heavy textbook I spent hours reading. “My mom was murdered because she was looking for proof that the government was kidnapping people who knew the truth.”
“Did she find proof?” Rose asks. Her eyes lift from the textbook to me. “Did you?”
I take a deep breath and nod. “I used your brother’s security identification to get into the archives at Liberty Tower.”
“And you think Isaac was taken because they believe he was there.” She runs her fingers along the picture on her brother’s ID. “You’re telling me that my dad knows about all of this? About the words and your mom’s murder and why Isaac is really missing?”
I nod again. “I know it’s hard to believe. I didn’t either at first. If it hadn’t been for my mom, I might have ignored it all. But now I know that if you tell your dad or anyone else about what I’ve told you, the Marshals will come. They’ll take me away, and they’ll come for you, too.” My throat burns.
Silence wraps around the room and stretches so tight I can hardly breathe. I want her to yell at me. To get angry or to ask questions or to say something. But there’s only silence as she turns the ID over and over and over in her hands.
“Rose, I—”
“Stop.” Rose shakes her head as if trying to clear it. “I get that you want me to understand, but . . . I need time to think. Okay?”
I swallow hard and nod. “Do you want me to go?” I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted me far, far away.
“No.” Rose frowns. “I’m going to stay in Isaac’s room for now. You can take mine.”
As she heads down the hall with the books clutched tight in her hands, I say, “I’m going to make this right.”
I don’t know how, but I have to. Atlas’s dad. Rose’s brother. The Marshals took them. We have to do something to get them back, but the Marshals have guns and numbers on their side. What do I have?
Do I sleep? I must. One minute I am listening to the sound of Mrs. Webster coming home and the next my eyes snap open and I’m squinting at the sunlight streaming through the frothy curtains.
I scramble out of bed and peer into Isaac’s room. Rose is curled on the bed wearing Isaac’s school jacket—fast asleep.
Mrs. Webster is already gone when I finish showering and pull on jeans, a fitted black T-shirt, and Stef’s blue hat. A note on the refrigerator tablet says there has been no news. That Mrs. Webster has gone to the police station again and Rose should call her when she gets up. I’m not sure when that will be, but I am determined to have something to tell her when she does.
I pull my phone out of my backpack, ignore the voice mail from my father, and text Atlas: SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED. NEED TO SEE YOU NOW, along with Rose’s address. Because I can’t just stay on the sidelines like the Stewards. When I think about Rose and her mother—Atlas and his father; my dad and the voice mail I finally listen to that is filled with apologies that he seems doomed to make again and again because of what the people in charge of our government did to my mother—I can’t just wait for something to happen that will change things. I have to try to put things right no matter the danger.
Relief flickers across Atlas’s face when I answer the door. “I was worried something happened to you,” he says, stepping into the living room. “I’m supposed to be helping prepare for the lockdown. So I have to make this fast.”
“My friend Rose, her brother was taken yesterday—because of me. I took his ID and used it to get into the archives. Now they think he’s one of you, and I have to get him back.”
Atlas shakes his head. “If you try you’ll get taken, too.”
“I don’t care.”
“I get why you say that.” He takes a step forward. “But you don’t mean it.”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “I do. I can’t unsee what you’ve shown me. I can’t pretend not to know what I know. How can you?”
“I’m not pretending anything, Meri, and you don’t understand.”
“You’re right,” I admit. “I don’t understand how you can plan to lock yourself underground when your father needs your help.”
His jaw tightens. Hurt colors his eyes and I realize I’ve gone too far.
“Atlas, I know you want to help your father.” I place a hand on his arm. “We can still do that. We can help him and Isaac and all the others they’ve taken who are still in the city.”
“We don’t know where he or your friend’s brother are being held.”
“No, but how long do you think the government can keep holding them if everyone in the city knows the truth?” I ask. “There has to be a way to get the word out to people about what’s happening. The more people who know, the harder it will be for the government to take people away or to keep the Unity Centers secret.” Atlas doesn’t automatically shoot me down, which gives me hope I might be onto something. So I barrel ahead. “There have to be other Stewards who don’t want to wait around to see how many more people are taken or die. Maybe if we all work together we can spread the truth to enough people to make a difference. We can convince them to speak out and—”
“Don’t you think I want to?” Atlas runs a hand over his head. “People aren’t ready, Meri. They won’t believe just because you say they should.”
“I did.”
Atlas and I jump at the sound of Rose’s voice. She’s standing in the hallway in leggings and an oversize blue Chicago Cubs T-shirt, holding her brother’s ID in her hand.
“Meri told me about it all. I didn’t want to hear it, but Meri made me listen. And I believe.”
“You told her?” Atlas turns toward me.
“I trust her. And I owed her the truth.” I straighten my shoulders and say, “Everyone deserves the chance to hear the truth.”
“And if we fail?” Atlas asks. “What happens to my dad and her brother then? What happens to you?”
“The same thing that would happen if we did nothing,” I say, feeling Rose move to stand at my side. “But at least I’ll know we didn’t let that happen without a fight.”
Atlas turns and paces to the window. He runs a hand over the back of his neck and looks out as if searching for answers. “I don’t want to hide in the Lyceum. I don’t want to keep waiting for the right time. But if we don’t have a plan, we don’t have a chance.”
“Our parents had a plan,” I tell him. “We just have to figure out what it was.”
He turns. “We don’t know what they were working on.”
“My mother’s friend—the one I visited—said my mother was working with people to reveal the truth to the entire city. You said your father and my mother weren’t working alone. Atlas.” I step toward him. “Do you believe that’s true? That there were others?”
Slowly he nods. “There’s at least one more. But . . .”
“Then we have to find them.”
“How?” he asks.
“We go to the Lyceum and figure out who it is. We have to at least try.”
It’s not much of a plan, but it’s better than nothing. Atlas paces the room, sighs, then turns backs to me. “Well, if we’re going, we’d better do it now because the lockdown starts at midnight.”
That doesn’t give us much time to figure this out. But we have to make the attempt.
“I’ll go get changed,” Rose says, turning toward the hall. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to get ready and to call my mom.”
“No,” Atlas snaps. “She can’t come, Meri.”
“The hell I can’t.” Rose spins around. “We’re talking about saving my brother.”
“We won’t be talking about anything if you—”
“Stop,” I shout. They both turn toward me. “Atlas,” I say, forcing myself to sound calm. “Can you please give Rose and me a couple minutes alone? I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Atlas closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “Make it quick. We don’t have a lot of time.” He turns toward Rose. Sympathy storms into his eyes. “I really hope we find your brother,” he says. Then he turns on his heel and heads for the door.
“I’m going,” Rose says when the door closes. “You can’t make me stay here because some guy named Atlas says so. What kind of name is that anyway?”
“All the Stewards have names that belong in a library. My mom was Folio. Rose, I’m not asking you to stay here because of Atlas. I’m asking because if you don’t stay here your dad will wonder where you are. He’ll start asking questions about what you are doing and what you know. He has to think you’re still in the dark . . . that you’re on his side. If he does, there could be a way for you to use that to figure out where they’re holding Atlas’s father and Isaac.”
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