“If he did,” I said, “then he wouldn’t call them traitors. He might just be quiet about it, since he couldn’t fix it.”
“So, think,” Cassie said. “Kids disappear, no one knows why, they never come back, it’s a big mystery. Then… three come back. What’s the Provost gonna do?”
“He’s going to come get us, maybe question us?” I said.
Cassie nodded. “Maybe. On the other hand, we saved his son. We brought Nate back. Maybe he should be thanking us.”
“You’re crazy,” I said, grinning. “I like it.”
“I bet you anything that they’re gonna be knocking at our door soon,” Cassie predicted. “And I, for one, will have showered.” She leaped toward the stairs, pounding up the steps, beating me to the bathroom, slamming the door in my face.
I heard the water gush out of the pipe, imagined how hot and clean it would be, and sank down to the floor. Overcome with exhaustion I slid sideways, luxuriating in how delightfully dry and comfortable this wooden floor was. The last thought I had was of Tim’s face, bruised and handsome. I wanted to see him again.
99
CASSIE WOKE ME UP, PRACTICALLY hauling me off the floor and into the bathtub. After the cold, crowded, soapless showers at the prison, this was complete bliss. Then I got to put on clean clothes—no yellow jumpsuit in sight.
Downstairs, Cassie had opened a couple of cans of non-prison food.
“No one’s showed up yet?” I asked, and she shook her head. I grabbed a bowl and a spoon and ate ravenously, not caring what it was. It was hot and resembled food and had actual flavor. Neither of us could eat much—we were used to starvation rations.
Afterward we went outside to take the signs down.
Our house looked about nine times more decrepit than I remembered it. It used to make me so mad, how run-down the place was, how Cassie hopelessly tried to keep it clean. I didn’t understand why she wasted her time and energy on sweeping dust off a porch that had three boards missing, or wiping down a kitchen counter so worn that you couldn’t see the pattern on the formica anymore.
It had been different when we were little, of course. When Ma was here, the house was painted, screens fixed, everything clean and tidy—just how the United likes it. After Ma was taken away for her mood-adjust, things were different. Pa couldn’t make the effort, I wouldn’t make the effort, so it was up to Cassie.
Now, as my sister and I tore down the FOR SALE sign and the auction sign, I was filled with anger and guilt all over again. All I’d ever wanted to do was get out of this stupid cell, this broken home.
It was only now that I understood it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. Only now that I realized, in the time I was gone, I’d somehow lost any chance of being happy in it ever again. Cassie was right. There was nothing for us here. This was the house we’d grown up in, but it would never be home again.
100
CASSIE
BECCA AND I SAT UP and waited till after curfew, waited for the Provost or the cops or whoever to come get us.
No one came. Maybe they were planning to grab us in the middle of the night. We decided to get some sleep, and for the first time since we were five years old, we slept in the same room. We both slept in Ma and Pa’s double bed, and talked the way we used to.
“We might not be able to get the kids from school behind us,” I admitted. “But what about the Outsiders?”
Becca nodded in the darkness. “Tomorrow we can bike over to the hideout. But Nate was the leader, and he’s out of commission. His leg was a mess.”
“Okay, we’ll go to the hideout tomorrow,” I said. “Then what?”
“Then I’m going to go to Mrs. Kelly’s Kitchen and eat myself sick,” Becca said.
I wasn’t sure if she was serious or not. Probably she was.
“I can’t believe we’re home,” I said, watching the ceiling fan turn slowly overhead. “I thought we were going to die there.”
“I was sure of it,” Becca said. “Being here, home, with warm, dry clothes, in a warm, comfy bed… it’s like a dream. I hope I never wake up.”
“Yeah,” I said. But inside I was thinking about all the kids we’d left behind. They weren’t in a dream. They were still in a nightmare.
“Hey, Beck?” I said, softly, but her even breathing told me she was asleep. I’d said I wanted to go back and free all the other kids, but in truth I had no idea how to do it. Those people were armed. The kids were scared and cowed by the fights and executions. We would need the Provost to go with us, or the police force.
How was I going to pull that off? And with that thought I, too, fell asleep, next to my sister in our parents’ bed.