O Lord, you have searched me and known me.

You know my sitting down and my rising up;

You understand my thought afar off.

You comprehend my path and my lying down,

And are acquainted with all my ways.

For there is not a word on my tongue,

But behold, O Lord, You know it altogether.

I touch my fingers to the paper, feeling the words somewhere inside me.

My frame was not hidden from You,

When I was made in secret,

And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.

My fingers slowly trace one line.

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

Fearfully and wonderfully made. I stand and exit the pew, repeating the practiced liturgy, and return to Raine. She smiles as I pull an extra blanket up over us and put my arm around her waist. There are all kinds of definitions for life. I have my own now. And that’s all that matters.

* * *

I’m startled awake with another blast of sirens in the streets outside the church. Raine’s eyes flutter open. We wait for them to pass and they do. We know this is only a brief respite, and not even a safe one. They’re still searching. How long before they search here?

I closed down my iScroll before I came here, not knowing if the Secretary had learned my code when Raine called me, so our outside communication has been limited. I use the phone tab if I have to talk to anyone. I briefly spoke with Miesha, telling her to stay put until I call her.

When I finished the call Raine repeated the name with wonder, Mee-sha, and asked me about her birth mother. I told her as much as I could, especially about our time running across the country with Dot. Oddly, I smile remembering those times, even though I wasn’t smiling then. I remember fuming in the back of the land pirates’ truck when Miesha wouldn’t tell me about her past, eating a disgusting oily tuna sandwich beneath a smelly tarp. Time has already softened so many memories. I tell her about the two of us pulling Dot from the cab, neither of us willing to leave her behind, because Miesha knew as well as I did that there was something different about Dot. I tell her how Miesha struggled to tell me about Rebecca’s and Karden’s deaths, how she felt like she had lost everything and there was no point to life.

“And then she found you?”

“Small consolation, huh?”

I tell her she saved me, driving off with me in Gatsbro’s limo while he banged on the windows for her to stop. “She’s a brave and strong woman, but I’m not sure what she’ll do when she finds out about you.”

Because of the lockdown, I haven’t told Miesha yet. I’m afraid she’ll leave her apartment and head straight for us without any regard to safety, or even confront the Secretary herself, ready to tear him to shreds with her bare hands. I remember how crazy Jenna got when Kayla went missing. There’s something about a parent that you just don’t want to mess with.

With only twenty minutes on the phone tab, I’ve had to keep my calls short but I’ve also stayed in touch with Xavier. The account is secure. Eighty billion duros are now safely transferred into the hands of the Resistance, but the Secretary has no way of knowing that yet and is probably still trying to beat the deadline. He also says Karden is recovering. The broken bones, ribs and ankle, have been attended to and are healing. But the damage from malnutrition will take longer to mend. He knows about Miesha and wants to see her but is willing to wait until it’s safe. I guess after waiting this long, a few more days is tolerable.

Raine stirs, nestling closer to my side for warmth. We kicked the blankets aside during the night. I’m just about to pull the blanket back over us when the phone tab vibrates. It’s Xavier. The lockdown is lifted. It’s presumed that the “dangerous suspects” escaped before the lockdown was in place. But we know the real reason for the lift—today was the deadline. It’s over. I picture the Secretary, crazed with defeat, still trying to track us down, still believing we are the key to his lost billions. It’s gone. He’ll never get it back now. But that won’t stop him from trying. Or exacting some sort of revenge. Some of that has already begun.

Xavier tells me that every CabBot involved in the traffic jam has been recycled. Every single one. Gone. And a few who weren’t even there were recycled just for good measure, CabBots like Dot who had become something more but were willing to risk what they had for Escape. There’s still no sign or word from Hap. I fear he’s met the same fate.

“It’s time for you to go, Locke, while you can, before someone spots you. It’s a small city. At least now it is. Everyone knows who you are,” Xavier says. We discuss what our options are and I tell him I need to run them past Raine first, and finally we make plans to meet up tomorrow.

Everyone knows. Does that include Shane, Vina, and Ian? I imagine each of their responses was different, Vina probably enjoying a vicarious thrill by the revelation, Shane mimicking his father’s rage, sputtering at his failure to be Raine’s perfect match, but it’s Ian’s response that interests me the most. It was his idea to help the Non-pacts. He thinks differently than many Citizens do. Maybe one day soon he’ll be in a position to help even more.

I roll over and kiss Raine’s forehead. “Time to wake up,” I whisper. “I’m going to make you another protein cake for breakfast.”

She smiles and stretches, her eyes still shut. “Hmm, yummy, I was hoping we’d have another one of those tasty morsels.”

“Plain or plain this time?”