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always got them filled with everything from food to spare clothes. If I had his family—the only family in town I can think of that’s worse than mine—I’d probably do the same. They make their dubious living with a constant stream of schemes but use their children to carry out anything that might earn a strike, saving themselves from paying for their actions. It’s disgusting.
    It doesn’t take long to make our way to the place where we’re supposed to meet Cassi and Jovan. The streets are dark and quiet, and the loudest sound I can hear is the barking of a dog in some distant yard.
    We reach the dark corner and, for a moment, I think we’re the only ones there. Before I even have a chance to complain that the others are late, Jovan seems to melt out of the darkness behind us. I try not to jump when he appears like that. I’m all nerves and it feels like almost anything could make me fly right out of my skin.
    “Cassi’s already in place,” he says, not taking the time for small talk. He’s wearing his Cadet uniform, which is just like a regular Army uniform save for the lack of rank patches. I don’t like it on him. It makes him look too much like all the rest of them.
    He’s got a box in his hands. The scents of meatloaf and gravy wafting out of it make my mouth water. Connor and I made do with whatever I could find and get out of the house without my mom waking up. We definitely didn’t eat meatloaf.
    “You’re sure about this?” I ask him. It’s only fair to offer him a chance to back out.
    He nods but I can’t see his face well enough to read the expression there. Only the barest suggestion of light reaches us from a single bulb outside the Courthouse. It carves his face into stark patches of light and shadow, devoid of expression.
    “Go back around the building and stay out of sight of the cameras. Come up just like we talked about and stay behind the loading platform. It will hide you. Be ready,” he says and hefts the box. His voice sounds sure, but there’s a thready note in there that gives away his nervousness. He should be nervous. I’m so terrified I want to puke all over his perfectly polished boots.
    I don’t though and the urge passes. Just as I’m about to ask him if he’s sure again, he walks away toward the front of the Courthouse. I grab Connor’s hand and we take off in a quiet walk-run around the other corner, heading toward the back door.
    It seems to take forever to get around the block. The Courthouse is huge and covers the entire block, corner to corner. I’ve lived here my entire life, but I never really noticed that until tonight. Now that I’m running around, hunched over and silent, it seems quite unreasonably large. And in the dark, the pale stone seems to glow as well as loom over us.
    With the darkness so complete and the night so quiet, everything seems stretched to its breaking point. My nerves, the silent night, and quite possibly our luck.
    Before we turn the corner into the field of view of the cameras, we stop and take stock. Neither of us has a watch, but Jovan made sure we knew there was usually a minute or two of chatting or jokes before the soldiers took their food back to the break room. Once we round this corner, we’ll need to be careful like we’ve never been before.
    The camera should be pointed so that it covers the side entrance and the stairs leading to the loading dock, but not as far back as the corner where we are. Jovan told me we should keep low, get to the concrete lip under the loading dock and then stay put.
    A quick look around the corner confirms what he said. Our only real worry is being seen by anyone who happens to be looking this way from another building or the street. And I see nothing. It’s completely still outside. Late-night activity is not a common thing around Bailar. I take Connor’s hand again and we shuffle, almost bent double, until we reach the safety of the loading dock overhang.
    It’s rather nice under here,