In the After

“. . . she saved us,” the TV blared and I recognized the Minder from last night. “If it wasn’t for her all those children would have been killed. I would have died.” The Minder was crying and someone handed her a tissue. “She’s a hero.”

“That’s not what happened,” I started to say, but then the newswoman continued.

“There are rumors that Amy Harris plans to take the Guardian test after she classes out. The director has no comment at this time.”

I turned to Rice. “Did you mention to anyone that I wanted to be a Guardian? Like maybe Dr. Reynolds?” Dr. Reynolds saw me leave the Rumble Room, but what good would announcing it do? I was sure he would have control over what was said on the news. Wouldn’t he rather no one knew I was breaking the rules?

Rice shook his head. “No . . . I knew you were up to something with Kay, and after all of your Guardian questions at the party, I’d have to be pretty dense not to figure it out. I haven’t told anyone, though.”

“You don’t think Vivian said something, do you? She’s the only other person I told.” I couldn’t imagine Vivian gossiping after she promised she wouldn’t.

“I don’t think she said anything, but Amy, I have to tell you something. It’s why I came over.” His face turned dark as he took my hand, squeezing it softly.

“What?” I asked, even though I got the feeling that I didn’t want to know. “What is it?”

“Amy, I’m so sorry. It’s Vivian,” he said, looking into my eyes. “She’s on the list of the dead.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Amy.” Rice takes a seat next to me in the common room. He looks at me with a kind smile. “It’s me, Rice.”

“I know.” I smile back and my heart pounds loudly. “How are you?” I try not to sound too excited.

“Good. I just came from visiting Baby. . . .”

“Baby! How is she?” I ask desperately, any pretense of composure discarded. I haven’t seen her for a while, not since her visit with Dr. Reynolds. And how long ago was that?

“She’s fine. I promised I would help her.”

“You promised to protect her,” I say quietly. I focus on the memory, but it eludes me. Why does Baby need protection? I try hard to concentrate. “You told me something. . . .”

“Shhhh.” Rice motions with his eyes to the corner of the room and I follow his gaze to the camera mounted in the corner. Standing underneath it, an orderly watches us. I nod, understanding that I need to be careful.

I lick my lips and choose my words cautiously. “There was a medicine that I was given; it was very effective. It improved my condition.”

Rice turns his blue eyes on me again. “I’ll speak with Dr. Reynolds about your treatment options.” He puts his hand in mine and signs, Be patient and play nice.

I take a deep breath, trying not to react. I will, I promise him. He must have learned our secret signing from Baby. How much does he know?

“I just get confused sometimes. I have trouble remembering everything. There are huge gaps in my memories. I don’t even know how long I’ve been in here.”

“Nearly two months.”

I stare at the floor warily. How long will they keep me here? More drugs? I ask, but he doesn’t understand, so I try again. Send Kay with good things?

Hard to get lots. He squeezes my hand. Help soon. Be strong.

I nod with a frown. I’m weak and tired. I don’t know if I can last much longer. “I remembered,” I tell him sadly. “About Vivian. And everything else.”

“I’m sorry, Amy.” He continues to hold my hand as I cry softly. “Just trust Dr. Reynolds. He only wants to help you.” He leans in and hugs me. I breathe in deeply, remembering his warm, soapy smell— comforting. “Take your medicine and let Dr. Thorpe know if your depression worsens. They can prescribe you something for it.”

I know he’s only saying it for the cameras and whoever else may be watching. With his hand he tells me, We love you. I lo—He pauses for a split second. Just hang on.

Okay. I wipe my face, but the tears keep coming. While Rice holds me, I mourn for Vivian once again.

* * *

On the outside, Memorial Hall looked like any other building in New Hope, but inside it was just one big, bland, white room. Chairs were set up facing the platform and podium and the overflow of mourners stood in the back and along the sides. I wanted to hide in the back but my mother made Baby and me sit up front with her and Adam.

What are all those TVs for? Baby asked. I studied the walls; flat screens lined the length of the hall. Each had a desk and keyboard underneath.

I’m not sure. My mother stood to give her speech. I tried to listen but it was impossible when all I could think about was Vivian and how agonizing it must have been for her at the end. While my mother talked about the strength of New Hope, I felt the opposite—drained and weak. As she spoke, the names of the victims appeared one by one on a screen behind her.

I finally gave up trying to stop the tears. I wiped my face with my sleeve and thought how inappropriate it was that I was wearing red to a memorial service. Baby’s yellow jumper was just as ridiculous; it was like we were all in a cult.

After my mother’s speech, Dr. Reynolds stepped forward. “Thank you, Director Harris. Will everyone please feel free to access individual names at any of the consoles located around the hall. Don’t hesitate to add an epitaph for friends and loved ones. In order to heal, we must first remember.” Dr. Reynolds nodded crisply at my mother and they left the platform. My mother came over to retrieve Adam before she was swept aside to speak to someone I didn’t know.

I spotted Kay and headed over to her while my mother was distracted, Baby trailing behind me.

“Hi, Kay,” I said, wondering who she lost during the Incident. None of the Guardians, but a friend maybe. Did Kay have friends?

“We probably shouldn’t be seen talking together,” she muttered to me between clenched teeth.

“Why not? It’s out that I want to be a Guardian. . . . My mother hasn’t even said anything about it.” I watched her, across the room, looking stressed but composed. “Do you think . . . maybe we should just tell my mother that you’re training me? She seems okay with me trying out. She might feel better if she knows I’m prepared.”

“Absolutely not.” Kay lowered her voice. “I’m sure that as your mother she’d want you to be safe, but as the director she would have to make an example of you for not following the rules.”

“You break the rules all the time,” I told her, incredulous.

“I never break the rules,” she stated firmly.

“Right . . . never.”

My mother appeared at my side and took me by the shoulder, away from Kay. “Honey, why don’t you go write something for Vivian? I’ll watch Baby.” She gave me a tender look. “It will make you feel better.”

I doubted it, but I nodded and went over to wait in line. After a while, the crowd thinned and I found an unused console. I typed in Alvarez and Vivian’s name immediately popped up. I highlighted it and watched a video of her, showing her Advanced Theory presentation for the synth-suits. She looked calm and poised, but I knew she was nervous by the way she fiddled with her necklace.

After the short video, I highlighted the pencil in the corner of the screen and saw that Tracey had already left an epitaph. GOOD-BYE, VIV. YOU WERE ONE OF A KIND AND YOU WILL BE DEARLY MISSED. It reminded me of the messages written inside the high school yearbook I found ages ago, while scavenging in the After.