“But someone found out enough to be suspicious. We don’t know if they’ll connect the dots between this incident and the Nornand breakout—or if they have anything that might tie her back to us. So everybody, be alert. Be cautious. We’ll 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?”
“Powatt’s barely an hour and a half from here. We’re not concerned they’re starting to build institutions within easy driving distance of major cities?”
“Say what you mean to say, Sabine,” Peter said.
Sabine began to reply, but the redheaded boy cut her off. “She means: Don’t you think it’s a problem that it’s okay now to stick institutions near a bunch of people? Everyone
knows
about them, but once upon a time, they still had enough of a conscience to not want a hundred dying children in their backyard. Now nobody cares?”
His voice was familiar—rough and heated and laced with anger. It had to be Christoph, the boy who’d called this morning.
“The country’s getting more and more apathetic, Peter,” Christoph said. “And the government’s getting bolder. Soon, they’re not even going to worry about covering up stuff like the Hahns institution. They’ll be able to round up hybrid kids in the street and put bullets in their heads—”
“Christoph,” Peter said just as Jackson nudged the other boy’s shoulder with his own. Christoph quieted, but didn’t control the mutinous look on his face. “We’re gathering more information about the Powatt institution. Once we know what we need to know, we’ll address it as it needs to be addressed.”
I had a sudden, gut-wrenching thought.
How long had Peter “gathered information” before he decided to launch a rescue plan? The first time we’d spoken with Jackson, when he’d pulled us into that storage closet at Nornand, he’d told us to
keep hope
because a rescue was coming, but it needed more time. We’d told him we didn’t have more time, that Hally and Lissa were due for the operation table.
If Jackson hadn’t spoken to us that day, the rescue might have happened days or even weeks later. Hally and Lissa might be dead.
Addie’s disquiet weighed heavy against me.
She hesitated.
There was no way to know.
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. By the time I managed to refocus on something other than my own tumbling thoughts, the room had broken up into more private conversations. I didn’t notice Sabine heading toward us until she’d almost reached our side.
“Hi again,” she said to us and Devon. There was a casual warmth to her voice, as if we’d met more than once. “I’m glad you ended up making it.”
“Yeah.” Addie didn’t bother making our voice sound anything but dull.
The look in Sabine’s eyes said she understood. Hally broke the awkward silence that followed by smiling and introducing herself. As the two of them chatted, I snuck another glance at Peter. He was still seated at the dining table, deep in a conversation with Henri and Emalia.
I said.
How could I demand Peter rush into a rescue after what had happened at Hahns?
Still, I couldn’t help my impatience. Every day we didn’t act was another day those kids had to suffer. We’d survived Nornand. We knew what it was like.
Peter didn’t notice our furtive looks, but Henri, sitting across from him, met our eyes. He smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.
Jackson had told us Henri’s story early on. Ryan and Hally only looked foreign, but Henri truly
was
foreign. He hadn’t been born here—hadn’t grown up in the Americas, hadn’t
“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?”
“Powatt’s barely an hour and a half from here. We’re not concerned they’re starting to build institutions within easy driving distance of major cities?”
“Say what you mean to say, Sabine,” Peter said.
Sabine began to reply, but the redheaded boy cut her off. “She means: Don’t you think it’s a problem that it’s okay now to stick institutions near a bunch of people? Everyone
knows
about them, but once upon a time, they still had enough of a conscience to not want a hundred dying children in their backyard. Now nobody cares?”
His voice was familiar—rough and heated and laced with anger. It had to be Christoph, the boy who’d called this morning.
“The country’s getting more and more apathetic, Peter,” Christoph said. “And the government’s getting bolder. Soon, they’re not even going to worry about covering up stuff like the Hahns institution. They’ll be able to round up hybrid kids in the street and put bullets in their heads—”
“Christoph,” Peter said just as Jackson nudged the other boy’s shoulder with his own. Christoph quieted, but didn’t control the mutinous look on his face. “We’re gathering more information about the Powatt institution. Once we know what we need to know, we’ll address it as it needs to be addressed.”
I had a sudden, gut-wrenching thought.
How long had Peter “gathered information” before he decided to launch a rescue plan? The first time we’d spoken with Jackson, when he’d pulled us into that storage closet at Nornand, he’d told us to
keep hope
because a rescue was coming, but it needed more time. We’d told him we didn’t have more time, that Hally and Lissa were due for the operation table.
If Jackson hadn’t spoken to us that day, the rescue might have happened days or even weeks later. Hally and Lissa might be dead.
Addie’s disquiet weighed heavy against me.
She hesitated.
There was no way to know.
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. By the time I managed to refocus on something other than my own tumbling thoughts, the room had broken up into more private conversations. I didn’t notice Sabine heading toward us until she’d almost reached our side.
“Hi again,” she said to us and Devon. There was a casual warmth to her voice, as if we’d met more than once. “I’m glad you ended up making it.”
“Yeah.” Addie didn’t bother making our voice sound anything but dull.
The look in Sabine’s eyes said she understood. Hally broke the awkward silence that followed by smiling and introducing herself. As the two of them chatted, I snuck another glance at Peter. He was still seated at the dining table, deep in a conversation with Henri and Emalia.
I said.
How could I demand Peter rush into a rescue after what had happened at Hahns?
Still, I couldn’t help my impatience. Every day we didn’t act was another day those kids had to suffer. We’d survived Nornand. We knew what it was like.
Peter didn’t notice our furtive looks, but Henri, sitting across from him, met our eyes. He smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.
Jackson had told us Henri’s story early on. Ryan and Hally only looked foreign, but Henri truly
was
foreign. He hadn’t been born here—hadn’t grown up in the Americas, hadn’t
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