LITMIR.BIZ

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like this. Your hair looks so pretty in a bun, she’d say, or You’ve got such lovely eyes. Each of Addie’s sketches, even the doodles she drew for Kitty’s amusement, got a verbal round of applause.

      In return, we tried to compliment Emalia, too. It wasn’t hard or anything. She wore delicate, pale-gold sandals and faded pink blouses. She always found the most interesting places to order food from, coming home with white Styrofoam boxes from all over the city. But our conversations with Emalia never got beyond that. We spoke in a language of comments on the weather, polite greetings, and slight smiles, all underlaid with a sense of Not Quite Knowing What to Do.

      Emalia had only fostered one other escaped hybrid before, a twelve-year-old girl who stayed three weeks before Peter found her a more permanent family down south. Emalia herself was in her midtwenties. She and Sophie had managed to remain hidden all these years, escaping institutionalization. They and Peter had connected mostly by chance.

      Maybe that was why Emalia acted as if she didn’t know how to handle us. As if, poked too hard, we might break.

      Addie leaned against the counter. “When’s the meeting going to be?”

      “With Peter? Tomorrow night. Why?”

      “I want to go.”

      Emalia tipped some cereal into a bowl, her smile hesitant. “It’s going to be at Peter’s apartment, Addie. Like usual.”

      “That’s barely a five-minute walk.”

      “You aren’t supposed to be—”

      “It’ll be nighttime. No one would see us.” Addie fixed the woman with our stare. “Emalia, I need to talk with him. I want to know what’s going on.”

      Nornand’s hybrid wing had shut down, but its patients had been shipped elsewhere instead of being set free. Peter had promised we’d work to rescue them. But if anything had been done, Addie and I hadn’t been told.

      “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” Emalia said, “and I’m sure Peter will drop by here at some point.”

      “It’s a five-minute walk,” Addie repeated. “A five-minute walk in the dark.”

      The coffee machine beeped. Emalia hurried toward it. “I’ll ask Peter when I see him. How about that? I’ll tell him you want very badly to go, and we’ll see what he says.”

      <She’s only trying to shut us up> I said, and I knew Addie agreed.

      Aloud, though, she just murmured, “Okay.”

      “Okay.” Emalia smiled and nodded at the pot of coffee. The smell, usually heady and comforting, now made us feel slightly sick. “You sure you don’t want just a little bit? It’s nice to have something hot when the morning’s chilly.”

      Addie shook her head and turned away.

      It was chilly outside. We weren’t going to be outside.

       THREE

      Addie and I were back in bed, curled against a pillow, when Emalia left for the airport. We hovered between wakefulness and dreams, the corners of the world worn soft.

      The knock at the front door split us from sleep. Addie startled upright, automatically checking on Kitty and Nina. They were still asleep, huddled beneath their blanket so far we could just barely see their eyes.

      The knock came again. I caught the glint of red light on the nightstand, where Addie had tossed our chip before collapsing into bed. It glowed steadily now, an indication its twin was near.

      <It’s just Ryan> I whispered.

      We had to be calm. We couldn’t keep jumping like this, fearing every knock at the door was someone coming to snatch us away.

      I didn’t have to ask Addie to ease control to me. I took charge of our limbs as she let them go, hurrying into the living room and opening the front door.

      The morning sunlight caught Ryan’s skin, giving it a glow like burnished gold. His dark curls stuck up in ways that laughed at gravity. He reached toward us, like he might touch our arm, brush his fingers against our skin. He didn’t. His hand dropped back to his side. “I wasn’t sure if you would be awake this early.”

      “We couldn’t sleep,” I said.

      “It’s summer break.” A wryness twisted Ryan’s smile. “We should be sleeping in.”

      I drew him to the sofa. He’d brought a small paper bag with him—probably containing yet another invention—and he set it on the floor beside his feet.

      “Well, we did skip all our finals,” I said.

      Addie’s amusement colored the space between us. It relaxed me a little. Being with Ryan—talking with Ryan—I always kept one finger on the pulse of Addie’s mood.

      Ryan laughed. “That’s what keeps you up at night?”

      “You’re the one who should be worried,” I said, mock solemn. “You’re going to be a senior next semester. You should be applying to colleges soon.”

      His smile slipped, and I winced. Ryan and Devon ought to be applying to colleges soon. But it would be enough of a miracle just to get us into a classroom in the fall. Even if Peter and the others decided that it was safe to let us out of the building by then, there were more things to be faked: immunization records, transcripts …

      Besides, where would they go? There was a college downtown, but that was about it. It would be too dangerous, surely, to send him away by himself.

      “Guess I’ll just have to repeat eleventh grade, then.” Ryan’s shrug was as lazy and exaggerated as his smile. He glanced at me sideways. “Be the same age as everyone else in the class for once.”

      Our shoulders relaxed. I laughed, leaning toward him. “Oh, the horror.”

      For a moment, it was just Ryan and me, looking at each other. A stillness. Twelve inches between us. Twelve inches of morning sunlight and Addie’s growing unease and the sound of traffic from four floors down. It would have taken him a second to break that distance. It would have taken me less. But the twelve inches remained. A foot of distance, filled with all the reasons why we couldn’t.

      There came another knock.

      “Hally?” I asked Ryan, frowning. Unlike their brothers, Hally and Lissa weren’t morning people. It was nearing eight now, which meant they’d usually be asleep for another two or three hours at least.

      Ryan stood, but motioned for me to stay seated. Before he could take a step toward the door, someone called out, “It’s me, guys. Let me in?”

      It wasn’t Hally’s voice, but it was familiar nonetheless. Ryan threw me a look that was half relief, half exasperation, then crossed to open the door. “Hey, what’s up?”

      Jackson strolled inside. Over time, I’d learned to differentiate between Jackson and Vincent—Vince. I discovered the subtle traits that separated the two souls despite their ownership of the same lanky frame, the identical shaggy, brown hair and pale blue eyes. Vince was the one who made me blush. Who seemed to always be making fun of me—of everyone. Who was never out of jokes. Maybe that was why he and Jackson were forever smiling.

      But this was Jackson. I was sure. It was the way he looked at Addie and me that made it clear—like he wasn’t just looking, but studying. As if there would be a test later on Addie and Eva Tamsyn, and he was making sure he’d do well.

      He’d visited Addie and me frequently since our escape, playing tour guide to our new life. It was through him that we’d learned about Emalia’s past, and Peter’s, and Henri’s.

      “Hey, Jackson,” I said, and was rewarded with a grin.

      Jackson

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