Did you make something? I asked.
Yeah. Here. He handed me the bag. Whatever it was, it was heavy for its size. Its for you.
Its not another salt-and-pepper shaker, is it?
He smiled faintly. Not exactly.
The paper bag crinkled as I opened it. I drew out a small metal bird, just the right size to fit in our cupped hands. Its spread wings framed the round face of a clock, its eyes staring upward, head arched back, as if looking to the sky.
Ryan tapped a fingertip against the clockface. It plays music when the alarm goes off. Not great music or anything, because I got the recording fromwell, anyway . . . His fingers slid down the metals cool, smooth ridges until they touched my hands. You said you didnt like the one Emalia gave you. Since it sounds likesince its so loud.
Since it sounded like a siren.
Thanks. My eyes traced the overlap of our fingers, up his arm, catching against the way his shirt creased down from his shoulder, across his chest, up to the hard edge of his chin, his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Thanks, I said again, but softer, because he was leaning toward me. My eyes closed.
His lips brushed against my cheek.
I held utterly still, and so did he. As if sudden movement would break something. As if tasting his mouth against mineas if being less than so, so careful
Would cause something to shatter.
I didnt want to be careful. I didnt want to have to stay so still, or try so hard to keep always that breath of distance. That last-minute shift of his mouth from mine.
I didnt want to think about Addie. Or Devon.
Just for a second.
Just for a moment.
Just for this one moment
But I had to. My body did not belong solely to me. That was the way it was, no matter how utterly unfair it sometimes felt.
Its going to be okay, Eva, Ryan said, and the words skirted over the edge of my jaw.
He leaned back, and there was air in the world again. Our eyes held. Then his gaze slipped to the little golden bird between us, half-hidden beneath our fingers.
His hands squeezed mine.
Ours.
FIVE
A month ago, on the beach, Jackson told Addie and me how hybrids coped with their situationor at least how they coped with part of it. Some things we didnt talk about. He didnt teach me how to suppress the nightmares of Nornands white walls, didnt let me know if it was okay that sometimes I felt so furious with my mom and dad for what theyd allowed to happen to us.
But Jackson explained how hybrids could achieve a semblance of independence when their bodies could never truly be theirs. They forced themselves to disappear, one soul slipping into unconsciousness.
Id done it once, by accident, when Addie and I were thirteen, but never since then. It had been an unspoken promise between Addie and me that Id never leave her again. But we were fifteen now, and though leaving Addie forever was unthinkable, a few minutes or a few hours was something else entirely. The possibility of freedom taunted me.
<What if you dont come back?> Addie said every time I brought up the possibility of going under, as Jackson called it.
<Jackson said>
<Jackson could be wrong.>
A week ago, Id finally drawn up the courage to ask Sophie: If I make myself disappear, is it possible I wont come back?
She laughed as if Id asked if we might stick our head out the window and be struck by lightning.
Of course youd come back, Eva. Havent you ever done it before?
But how do you control how long youre gone? What if youre gone for days? For weeks?
Shed smiled. Then youll have to let me know, because that would be a world record.
So its never happened.
The urgency in our voice must have reached her; her expression gentled. The longest Ive ever heard of anyone being out is half a day, Eva. If youve never done it before, it can be hard to control how long youre gone. You might only manage a few minutes, or it could be a couple hours. But you get the hang of it. You learn to control it.
How?
Itsits hard to explain. Its something you learn through doing, more than anything. Just keep trying. You and Addie will figure it out.
But Addie and I had figured out nothing, because Addie refused to try.
<Its normal, isnt it?> I said. <Its what hybrids do. Thats what Jackson told us, what Sophie told us. Devon and Ryantheyre trying it now.>
<Since when have you cared about normal?>
Addie was right. It had always been Addie who yearned for normality. Shed had the luxury of thinking about it. Growing up, there had been no version of normality that could coexist with my survival.
Now there was. And I wanted it, more than anything.
Still, it was Addies choice as much as mine, and I could feel how torn she was. But I could also feel the ghost of Ryans lips against our jaw, and the phantom twist in our gut every time he got too closethe pain that wasnt mine.
I couldnt stay like this forever.
Maybe it was Emalia who convinced Peter to let us attend the meeting. But something in me felt it was Sabine who pulled through for us in the end. Jensons speech had set everyone on edge, even Emalia. Ryan shot us an exasperated look behind Emalias back as she fluttered around, giving us instructions: dont talk, keep walking, attract as little attention as possible.
By the time we left the building, it was dark out, the streets lit only by sallow streetlamps and the occasional headlights. From what Jackson had told us, this was the part of the city tourists didnt visit. No one lived here but the people who had to, the ones who couldnt afford better housing. Or, I supposed, the ones like us, in hiding.
Usually, only a select few were called to Peters meetings, or chose to attend. But tonight, there must have been at least thirty people. It was overwhelming to look around, see these faces, and know that almost all of them were hybrid, like us. Living in secret, like us. Carrying on relatively normal lives in a country that wanted them dead.
They looked like anyone else. There was a middle-aged man who might have been a banker. A young woman in sweats like shed come here straight from the gym. An older lady who reminded me a little of our fifth-grade teacher. I caught Hallys eyes flickering from person to person, too, drinking in this crowd. Even Kitty had been allowed to comeif only so she wouldnt be left alone. But not everyone was here. Two, at least, were missing: Dr. Lyanne and Jaime.
<Theres Sabine and Jackson> Addie said. They stood in the dining room along with two others: a strawberry-blond boy about Jacksons age with a constellation of freckles, and a girl with platinum-blond hair but dark eyebrows. Sabine caught our eyes and smiled. Addie smiled back. Other than Kitty, we were the youngest in the room.
Peter stood, and conversations dwindled. Physically, he was intimidatingtall, broad-shouldered, and sturdy, but with a face that could be kind. It was at his most austere, though, that I best saw his resemblance to his sister, Dr. Lyanne. They had the same strong brows, the same sharp eyes.
He resembled her now, as he said, Im sure by now youve all heard about Mark Jensons address this morning. He took a long, slow breath. But not all of you have heard about the Hahns institution, and thats where Ill start.
The room sat silent as Peter explained. Hed been keeping tabs on an institution in the mountains of Hahns County, up in the north, since before the Nornand breakout. The conditions were frigid during the winter, the building old, the children ill dressed and uncared for. In other words, they died like flies when the snow came in.
Plans for rescue developed slowly. The mountain terrain complicated things, so it was decided that any attempt would have to be conducted in summer, when conditions were fairest. A woman, Diane, had been seeded as a caretakerinstitutions werent staffed by nurses and doctors, like Nornand, but caretakersand Peter had flown up to meet with her.
Everything fell apart when Dianes cover was blown. Desperate, she stole away six children in her car as she made her escape.
Everything fell apart when Dianes cover was blown. Desperate, she stole away six children in her car as she made her escape.
She didnt make it far.
She and two children died when their car went over the side of the winding mountain road. The remaining four kids extracted themselves from the wreckage and fled before the officials arrived.
Ten hours later, they stumbled into a small town still wearing their institution uniforms, filthy and bleeding and exhausted. The eldest of them was twelve, the youngest tenjust past the government-mandated deadline.
The police were called, the children whisked away. But not before their story of terror and pain spread, twisted in eager, gossiping mouths.
Peter laughed low, humorlessly. It was an ugly thing for the townspeople, Im sure, on a Sunday morning.
Easy to not think about other peoples suffering, when it was hidden away. Harder to stomach when it collapsed on your front porch.
At Nornand, wed all worn blue.
What color did they wear at Hahns?
But itll never get beyond that. Sabines voice was quiet, but clear. The media will never be allowed to pick up the story.
Peter shook his head. It was unlikely to begin with. Its impossible now, with the announcement Jenson made this morning. Which was probably the point.
Addie frowned, but I understood. By saying they were making headway in a hybrid cure, they could quash the Hahns story. And by saying something about possible hybrid retaliation, they now had an excuse to dial up security without having to admit to the recent breakouts.
Diane was a cautious woman, Peter said. But someone found out enough to be suspicious. We dont know if theyll connect the dots between this incident and the Nornand breakoutor if they have anything that might tie her back to us. So everybody, be alert. Be cautious. Well have to lie low for a while.
What about that new institution at Powatt? It was Sabine again. She fingered one of the golden buttons on her jacket as she spoke, running her thumb along the smooth edge.
Peter turned toward her. What about it?
Powatts barely an hour and a half from here. Were not concerned theyre starting to build institutions within easy driving distance of major cities?
Say what you mean to say, Sabine, Peter said.