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appear to be working for the Resistance. That’s what I meant by obvious. Why are you all so knee-jerk defensive?” I shake my head and continue walking.
    She keeps step with my long stride, like a frothing Jack Russell trying to sink its teeth into me. “Knee-jerk?” she says. “You’ve lived life as a citizen, Locke. Maybe it was another era, but you know what that freedom feels like. I’m a fifth-generation Non-pact. It’s been 125 years since the Civil Division. My great-great-grandfather was an engineer. He built bridges and buildings that touched the sky. He had ancestors that reached back to the Mayflower . He chose not to become part of the Division. He didn’t believe in it.” She grabs at my arm. “Stop walking, dammit! I’m talking to you!”
    I stop. Defensive doesn’t even begin to describe what I’ve unleashed.
    “You’ve been back for what, a year? Most of that time you were coddled on a luxurious estate. Wait until you taste thirty-eight years of being a Non-pact like I have. Wait until you have to tell your children that they can’t play in a public park because you might all be arrested. Wait until you’ve known someone who has violated public space and they’re sent off to the desert and you never see them again. Wait another thirty-eight years and then you can lecture me on being defensive.”
    I stare at her, her nostrils flared, her chest rising in heated breaths. Is she going to bite my leg?
    “Why don’t you tell me what you really think, Livvy?”
    She looks at me, her brows pulling together like she’s confused.
    “It’s a joke, Livvy. Trust me, you don’t need to say another word. I get it. You do joke, don’t you?”
    She reluctantly pulls the corners of her mouth back in an embarrassed smile. “Okay, maybe I overreacted a bit.” She tucks her chin to her chest.
    I roll my eyes. “A bit.”
    “Knee-jerk. Is that a curse word from your time?”
    I look sideways at her to see if she’s playing with me. She isn’t. “Yeah. One of the really bad ones. Sorry. Don’t know what came over me.”
    Her reluctant smile and my stab at levity don’t erase the tension between us. Words have been said that can’t be taken back, and I learned a long time ago that words have longer lives than people.
    We walk the rest of the way to the PAT station in silence. Thirty-eight years of being held back. Yeah, tough. But I had 260 years without a voice at all. You can’t even compare the two. We’re not even in the same stratosphere. Coddled? I’d trade places with her anytime. At least she still has family. I can never get mine back no matter how many laws are swept away. But what I’m mostly thinking is I’m not waiting around another thirty-eight years for the world to change. I’ve already done too much waiting.
    When we finally return to the apartment, Carver is gone and Xavier is just leaving.
    “Where are you going?” I ask.
    “Home.”
    It seems an odd thing to say. Like he’s clocking out from a typical day of work. It didn’t occur to me that he even had a home, unless he calls that abandoned basement where we met home.
    “Me too,” Livvy chimes in. “I’m late.” She grabs her coat and heads for the door.
    Where do Non-pacts live in the middle of Boston? They’re both in a hurry to get there. They leave, Xavier telling me the same thing as the night before. “Pantry’s stocked. Don’t leave.”
    Good night to you too.
    I look around. An apartment all my own. It’s something I would have bragged about in another lifetime. With everyone gone, the extravagant space that came at high cost to others is cold. It’s only an in, just like me.
    One more lesson: Don’t be fooled by the fancy apartment, the expensive clothes, or even the promise of Favors. You’re only a pawn to help them achieve their goal. Nothing more than you were for Gatsbro. First and foremost, watch your own back. Their backs come second.

Secrets
    For the first time since I’ve been here,