"Not exactly." She leans back, looking up into the trees around us. "Kayla brought me and Dot here this morning to feed the birds. She says this is her favorite place in the world. You'll find your place too. Eventually."
"My place is gone, Miesha. Forever."
"Your old place in the world. Yes. There's no getting that back. But as bad as that may seem, there are some people who have never had as much as you--they've never had a place in this world at all and can never hope to. That's what my husband worked for. Finding a place, making a place, it takes hard work."
I remember what she told me about getting out of prison and trying to build a new life. "What about you? Have you found your place?"
She shrugs. "It's still a work in progress." She turns to face me. Her eyes squint, and I watch her breaths come quicker. It is rare that Miesha succumbs to nerves.
"What's the matter?" I ask.
She swallows and takes a slow, measured breath. "Locke, there's something else about myself I need to tell you. Something that I've wanted to tell--"
"Is this a private party?"
Jenna stands at the entrance to the garden.
Miesha jumps up. "Of course not," she says. "Come in."
Jenna joins us. She remains standing and snaps off a small lavender blossom and twists it in her fingers. Ever since I arrived, she's been dressed in basic work clothes--blue jeans and plain cotton T-shirts. This evening she has on a thin white shift that flows almost to her ankles and ripples in the wind. She looks unearthly, like a wispy apparition that has floated here on the breeze.
"I just wanted to have a moment to talk with you before dinner," she says. "With Kayla around, I can't always talk freely. I thought you should know I've had some of my connections making inquiries ever since you came. The bad news is there's been no sign of Kara, but the good news is we have no reports of her being picked up, either. And we're fairly certain that Gatsbro doesn't have her. He's still gone from his labs in Manchester, and there haven't been any rumblings there about her. They checked his estate, and nothing there either, so that's at least some hopeful news, even if she's still missing."
I already know she hasn't been picked up and that Gatsbro hasn't caught her. I lean forward, burying my face in my hands, so it looks like the relief that Jenna expects and also so she can't see my face and read something I can't hide. But as I rest my face in my palms, I think about the
risk Jenna has taken for us, reconnecting with a Network she had left behind. I look up at her, hopeful that she reads only gratitude on my face.
She walks over and grabs my hand, sitting down next to me. She shakes her head. "I'm sorry I don't have more information."
"Me too," I say. I squeeze her hand, wanting never to let go, wanting this place to feel like my place.
Miesha walks toward the garden entrance. "Think I'll go back and see if I can help Allys with--"
"Jenna! Locke! Someone!"
It's Allys, and we hear the panic in her scream. We jump to our feet and run.
We're there in seconds. It feels like my feet never touched the ground. We stop when we see Allys. She's at the bottom of the back porch steps and we follow the line of her stare down the long driveway. At the end is a small ragged figure.
"Oh, my God," Jenna whispers. And she runs again.
Chapter 63
Kara.
Kara looking weak.
Kara with blood running down her legs and dirty mats in her once-beautiful silky hair.
Kara shoeless and limping.
Kara, not looking at all like she did last night.
Did I imagine it?
I am right behind Jenna, running down the driveway, gravel spraying out behind us. Jenna stops a few feet from her, and I stop right behind Jenna.
"Kara?" Jenna whispers.