“Damn right,” Mom muttered.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from yelling, But they can’t! Don’t you see that? They aren’t even allowed to leave the District. How would they survive?
It wouldn’t matter if I ran down the street screaming those things at the top of my lungs, because the truth was simple. People like my mom didn’t care if the Veilorians survived. She wouldn’t care if every one of them fell down and died this very minute, because to most humans, the visitors didn’t deserve to be here.
On the screen, Kaitlin was looking more disgusted by the minute, and I understood. I couldn’t listen to more. It made me sick, so I tiptoed from the room, careful not to alert my mom to my presence, and headed down the narrow hall to my bedroom.
When I reached it, I paused outside my open door, my thoughts turning to my sister. Like mine, her bedroom door was slightly ajar, but the absence of light told me she wasn’t home. It wasn’t surprising. Lena had begun spending more and more time at friends’ homes over the past two years. I knew she had big dreams, which mostly consisted of getting the hell out of here, and I’d worked hard over the years to make her life easier. Even if I was doomed to live in dumps like this my whole life, I was going to make sure Lena got out. Somehow.
Chapter Three
The next morning, I found myself pausing before stepping into the kitchen, my thoughts a jumbled web after everything I’d seen and heard the day before. The bitterness I’d felt over the things Mom said about Ione—as well as what I’d heard on the news—hadn’t faded, and while I wasn’t looking for a fight, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my mouth shut if she did decide to bring it up again. It wasn’t just about Ione, either. It was about humans and Veilorians in general. About how we treated them. About how people, human or not, deserved to be treated.
The viewing screen in the living room was on, and the house was small enough that the words were clear even if it wasn’t at full volume. More news. More people who had opinions about the Veilorians. More hate masked as humanitarianism. It made me want to hit something—or someone.
The only good thing about having the viewing screen on was that Mom didn’t seem to notice when I finally stepped into the kitchen. She was washing dishes, her arms covered in suds up to her bony elbows and one ear cocked toward the living room so she could catch every word. Hopefully, it would give me the chance to get out of the house without talking to her.
Lena had either never come home last night—which was the most likely scenario—or had already left for school, meaning Mom was the only person I had to sneak past. Thanks to the viewing screen, I was positive I’d be able to get out of the house without a problem.
Too bad I’d only made it halfway across the room when she said, “I need you to take the trash to the curb.”
I froze like I’d been caught doing something abhorrent and was trying to come up with an explanation to absolve me of all my sins, but the words died on my lips when I realized she wasn’t looking at me. In fact, she hadn’t even turned her head, so I wasn’t sure how she’d known I was here.
Despite how much I hated dragging the stinking garbage can to the road, the chore seemed like a blessing, considering I could have been facing yet another lecture about my cousin’s elopement.
“Okay.” I grabbed my bag off the floor where I’d dropped it the day before and slung it over my shoulder.
Mom’s head bobbed in silent acknowledgement, but she didn’t seem to be able to pull her attention away from the words blaring from the other room. Something I was thankful for.
“With the twenty-second anniversary of Landing Day now less than two weeks away, the debate over the visitors is once again in the limelight. Veronica Waters has swept in, taking the election by storm with her radical, yet popular opinions. She was met with overwhelming positivity after an appearance on the National News where she stated that new legislation should be passed to further regulate not just the Veilorians, but any humans who choose to fraternize with them as well.”
I could just see the viewing screen from where I stood, and I paused when a clip from last night’s news popped up and Veronica’s pinched expression was suddenly front and center.
“We need to do a better job of regulating the Veilorians. Of keeping track of who goes in and out. We need a census that will tell us exactly how at risk we are. Every time a human has a baby with one of them, they put the human race one step closer to extinction. They act like they’re not here to threaten us, but it’s a lie. They’re trying to breed us out!”
I cringed when Mom tsked, my face heating with anger. Before I did something stupid—like tell my mother she was a closedminded idiot—I backed out of the room and dashed for the front door.
The rambunctious noise, heat, and stink of the city had never been so welcome. The more bitter and hateful Mom got, the more it felt like the beeps and shouts were wrapping me in a comforting embrace when I stepped outside.
She’d never liked the visitors, and I’d grown up hearing how much better life had been before they got here, but with each new story about a human moving to the District, her hatred seemed to grow. Species traitor was a common phrase these days, especially in my house, and Ione’s sudden elopement had only made things worse. Not that I
