Once We Were

brown.

“How are we going to do that?” Jackson asked. “Stand outside the door and shout bomb at anyone who gets near?”

“If it keeps them away.”

“It’ll keep them away,” Jackson said. “It’ll also get us both arrested.”

I said nothing.

“Eva.” Jackson kept his eyes on the road ahead of us. “What Christoph said, about not wanting to let you know so you could argue your innocence—it’s not entirely untrue. And what he said about how we never needed you—well, that was a lie.” I still didn’t speak. “Look, what happened back there—”

“What happened back there is that your friends attacked us and tied us up.”

“They’re your friends, too.”

I laughed low. “They are?”

“Yes, they are. And I—” His fingers clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles bright. “Can I speak with Addie?”

<No> Addie said.

I shook our head. “She says no. Just drive.”

For a while, he obeyed, and we sat in silence. But his eyes flickered toward us.

“I’m sorry, all right?” Jackson sounded as exhausted as I felt. “I’m sorry. You were never meant to get hurt.”

Jackson parked by the side of the road, out of sight of the institution. The land here was as hilly as it had been in Frandmill. The sun was just starting to go down. I almost wished it were already dark. It might make me feel better. It would help us hide, maybe.

“This road loops around to the institution.” Jackson turned and looked out our window with us. “But you can walk up the hill and look down, see everything.”

I opened our car door. Jackson reached to extinguish the engine, but I stopped him. “No, stay. I’ll go check if there are any other cars. If not, we’ll drive until we find Sabine.”

I slammed the door shut before he could argue, and hurried up the hill. Our feet kept slipping against the steep, rocky ground.

<Think she’s already here?> Addie asked. We hadn’t passed any parked cars on the road.

<Maybe she’s closer to the building. Maybe they’re around the bend.>

<That would be too close> Addie said. <They’d be seen by the officials.>

<Maybe not.>

I glanced over our shoulder. Jackson was barely visible inside the car. Hopefully, he could see us more clearly than we could see him.

<Are we really going to let them take us, Eva?>

A rock turned under our foot, and we almost slipped. I lurched forward, regaining our balance at the last moment. I could already feel phantom hands grabbing our arms. I could see officers shoving us into a police car, forcing our head down. Would they cuff our hands behind our back?

Would our parents be told? Would they look up from dinner, food turning to ash in their mouths, at the sound of our names on the television, the sight of our familiar face?

Addie answered her own question. <We’re really going to let them take us.> She didn’t sound angry or sad or accusatory. Just calm and a little numb. <To save people who don’t care about us anyway. Who would kill us given the chance.>

<It doesn’t matter.> I took a deep breath. A few steps more, and we were at the top of the hill. Jackson was a speck in the distance. <I mean—it does. But . . . We’re not going to murder them, Addie. I don’t care who they are. I don’t care how they would treat us. This is not how we’re going to treat them.>

We looked down at the institution.

<Maybe we’ll run, and they won’t catch us> I whispered. <Maybe—maybe it’ll be okay.>

The Powatt institution was not Nornand. There was no green lawn, no bright panes of glass catching the sun. The main building sat cradled in a valley, maybe five stories high, rectangular, enormous. We were looking at its back. The walls were white. That much was the same. White walls and a dark roof and an asphalt parking lot baking in the slowly sinking sun.

There was a second, smaller building blocking most of the parking lot from view. I turned to the road where Jackson waited for us, and motioned that I was going to go down a bit to get a better look.

We saw eleven cars, none of which was Sabine’s. There were twelve people standing around talking outside the building, a security guard among them. As we watched, another woman emerged from her car. We were too far away to see more than the rough shape and colors of her clothes.

I walked farther around to see the front of the building, where there were another two guards posted by the main entrance.

<Addie . . . > I fought down a sickening surge of hope. <What if Sabine couldn’t get in? What if—>

A hand clamped over our mouth.

“Shhh, Eva,” Sabine whispered in our ear. “Shhh. If you’re quiet, it’ll all be okay.”

I struggled to wrench free, but Sabine was bigger than we were, and she had Christoph’s help. He was grim-faced, almost mechanical. It was somehow more frightening than his usual explosive anger. The Christoph whose temper blew up at the slightest provocation was also the Christoph whose face softened when he smiled. This Christoph—eyes glassy, mouth hard—I almost didn’t recognize.

“Shh,” Sabine whispered again. “We don’t want to hurt you, Eva.”

I lashed out with our foot. It connected—with Sabine? With Christoph? Both cried out as one of them went down and dragged the rest of us with them. Sabine’s hand still covered our mouth.

“It’s too late,” she said, breathing hard. “The bomb’s set up. It’s done, Eva.”

It wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be.

“Eva,” Christoph growled. He helped Sabine pin our arms to our sides. “Keep still.”

I ignored him, twisting and turning until we were almost on our knees, almost upright.

“Eva?” Jackson called quietly. We could barely hear him. How far up the hill was he? How far away? “Eva, where are you? Answer me.”

Sabine spun toward the sound of his voice. Her hand over our mouth loosened a little, and I jerked free.

“Jackson!” I cried.

Sabine slapped her hand over our mouth again. She kept looking between me and the crown of the hill, where Jackson might appear at any moment. “Eva, what can you do? Run down there? The building is going to explode. You’d die.” Her eyes met mine. “I care about you, Eva, despite everything. You and Addie. You’re one of us. We take care of our own.”

I slammed our head back, catching Christoph in the chin. Our elbow jabbed into his gut. I let ourself drop, ducking just in time to avoid Sabine’s hands. There was dust in our mouth and a ringing in our head and the sound of Christoph shouting as I rolled out of the way. I scrambled back to our feet, panting. Christoph lunged for us. I ran. Downhill.

“Eva,” Sabine shouted. Not a full-throated shout. She was still afraid of being heard. “Eva, don’t.”

I could see the edge of the parking lot. The people were gone—they must have entered the building while I was struggling with Christoph and Sabine. Only the cars remained, glinting in the dimming sun.

I looked over our shoulder. Christoph had stopped following us. His lip had split again. I could see the blood.