Becca had nothing to say, no magic words that would change Heather’s mind. “Wait,” she called after her. Useless. Meaningless.
Heather disappeared into the car and drove away.
Chapter Thirteen
Her mom’s car wasn’t in the parking lot.
Maybe she was out looking for Becca. Maybe she had gone to work. Either way, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Becca had to get to Jake’s house as quickly as possible. With the car gone, that meant on foot.
She started running.
Calling him would look too suspicious. Surveillance would start monitoring his phone calls as soon as Heather reported him—if they weren’t already listening in because of his history. Becca had to deliver her warning in person.
Out of the parking lot, onto the street. If anyone stopped her, what explanation could she give for going running in the middle of the night?
She turned onto the next street, already getting out of breath. Already slowing down. She pushed herself harder, gasping, reminding herself why she had to get there in time. Thinking about Jake.
She had put him in danger. Now she was going to save him.
She would get there in time. She would save him. There was no other option.
The road was nearly empty at this time of night. She almost felt like she was the only person left in the world, until the occasional pair of headlights jerked her out of the illusion. The further she ran, the longer the road got, until it stretched to infinity, until she wondered whether she was covering any distance at all. Sometimes she looked down at her watch, expecting a minute or two to have gone by, and saw that she had lost five minutes, ten, twenty.
She slowed down, forced herself to go faster, slowed down again. She stopped, in tears, legs burning. Less than halfway there. She started running again; her leg wobbled underneath her, and she fell to the pavement. A car swerved around her. She crawled to her feet, her arm scratched and bleeding from her fall.
Heather must have reported him by now.
How long would it take for Internal to arrest him? Would they see him as a low priority and wait a few days, maybe a week or two, more than enough time for Becca to warn him? Or would he be like Anna—reported one night and gone the next morning?
Was it already too late?
She was going to save him.
There was no other option.
She dragged herself forward, feeling the road disappear behind her too slowly, watching the sky lighten ahead of her too quickly.
Halfway there.
Her legs burned, but she ignored the pain. It didn’t matter. Only getting to Jake in time mattered.
Three-quarters of the way.
The sunrise streaked the sky with orange; Becca barely saw it. All she saw was one image, looping over and over in her mind: Enforcement at Jake’s door, dragging him and his dad out of the house.
Almost there.
A car drove up behind her; it slowed as it got closer. Becca glanced over her shoulder.
Even in the dark, she recognized it. That was her mom’s car.
So close. Another five minutes, maybe ten, and she would be there.
Her mom honked.
Becca pulled out her phone. She didn’t care how suspicious it looked. If she didn’t warn him now, she would never get the chance. She pretended she hadn’t heard her mom as she dialed Jake’s number.
His phone rang. And rang. Nobody there.
Too late.
No. There were plenty of reasons for him not to answer. He was probably asleep. Or with his dad. Or… or something. Something besides what she was afraid of.
“Hey.” Jake’s voice. Becca’s heart leapt. She started to answer, but Jake kept talking. “It’s Jake. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you when I can.”
Just his voicemail.
Her mom leaned on the horn.
Becca tried to keep her voice light. Tried to sound like she wasn’t afraid for Jake’s life. “Hey, I know you said you weren’t going to school today, so I thought you might want to hang out. You need to get out of the house. It’ll be… boring there. Really boring.” She could only hope that he would remember their date and the association of “boring” with “Internal,” that he would hear the message underneath the words.
Her mom rolled down the window. “Becca!”
Becca hung up the phone. It would have to be enough.
She stayed where she was. Her mom pulled up beside her and stopped the car. “Get in.”
Becca obeyed, still thinking about Jake, wondering whether he would understand her message. Or if it would even reach him in time.
She didn’t remember to be afraid for herself until the car door’s lock softly snapped into place.
They drove in silence.
Becca waited for her mom to say something. She didn’t.
“Where are we going?” Becca finally asked.
Her mom didn’t take her eyes off the road. “We’re going to 117.”
Becca felt her heart stop.
Her mom was giving her to Internal. Even as she had confided her worries about this very thing to Jake, she hadn’t actually believed it could happen.
Was that what Jake had meant when he had accused her of seeing herself as untouchable?
“You’re turning me in?” Her voice came out small and scared, a little girl’s voice.
“No!” The car swerved. Her mom lowered her voice. “No. There’s no need for that. You’re not a dissident. You’re just confused.”
Relief fought with wariness. Could she trust what her mom told her? “Then why are you taking me to 117?”
“So I can help you.” Her mom was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her fingers had turned white.
Her mom… Heather… everyone wanted to help her. Heather wanted to do it by reporting Jake. Her mom wanted to do it by taking her to 117. Becca wished people would stop trying to help.
The road that had seemed so long a few minutes ago whizzed by outside. “What do you mean? Help me how?”
Her mom didn’t say anything else.
The sunrise was starting to fade as they pulled into the parking lot of 117. Her mom got out of the car without a word. Becca followed only because she knew her mom would drag her if she didn’t get out on her own.
They walked toward the building—not to the front door, the one Becca had used when she had come here to find Heather, but to a smaller door along the right-hand wall. Becca’s legs shook from fear and exhaustion. Her heart sped up with every step she took that brought her closer to the building.
What had her mom meant about helping her?
Her mom took a card out of her wallet and slid it into the card reader by the side of the door. The door
