My one working eye widened as Becca smiled a bit more. She gave a quick glance at the door’s window, then came closer to me.
“I’m gonna kill you,” I warned her, holding up a finger. “You better get back.”
“They always put fighters together in this pen after a bout,” Becca whispered, her back to the door. “And as far as I know, this is the only place that isn’t bugged.”
“The second we get out of here, I’m going to run you over with the tiller,” I promised her, conveniently forgetting we were on death row.
“Cass—listen to me!” my sister said. “I don’t know how long we’re going to be in here!”
“It’s already been too long!” I snapped, lisping slightly because I’d bit my tongue during the fight.
Becca got the mulish expression I knew all too well, and I tried to angrily clench my jaw, but couldn’t because it hurt too much.
“I can’t believe I wasted so much time looking for you!” I said.
“Shut. The. Hell. Up!” Becca said, grabbing my shoulder. She pressed her forehead against mine, the way we used to when we were little. I glared into her eyes, and she glared back into mine.
Then we had a prolonged shout-whispered argument, going back and forth, until we heard the lock of the door click open. Becca drew back and gave me a hard-eyed stare.
I spit on the ground by her feet. “I don’t accept your apology!” I hissed as one guard grabbed my wrist to shackle.
“Well, you can go screw yourself!” Becca yelled back. She jerked her hand away from the guard. “I’m not sharing a room with her! You put her somewhere else! I never want to see her again!”
Ten minutes later I was in a new jail room, on a different hall, far away from my sister. This one had only three kids in it, so I got my own bunk. I lay down on it gingerly and put tentative fingers up to my puffy eye. Oh, Ridiculous, I thought. What are we doing?
63
NATHANIEL
CASSIE WAS GONE. NATHANIEL KNEW that, but he looked for her anyway until it was close to curfew. Crap. Both Greenfield sisters gone. Goddamnit. It was all happening too fast. He’d hoped to have more time. Worse, he couldn’t help feeling that it was all his fault. Had Becca been taken because he’d recruited her to be an Outsider? Yeah. Had Cassie been taken because she was poking around too much? Yeah. Probably. This was on him. Squarely on his shoulders.
At Healthcare United, Nathaniel parked his moped and glanced up at the modest building. He’d only been inside once, eight years ago, to see his mother. He’d run to the bed and thrown himself against her. She had opened her eyes and looked at him, giving him a slight, quizzical smile, and Nathaniel’s heart had turned to ice. His mother wasn’t there anymore. They were a stranger’s eyes.
“I’m here for Mr. Greenfield,” Nate told the receptionist. She looked puzzled, but gave him the room number. Nate wondered how long it would take before she called his father. Well, he would make this quick.
Though he knew Mr. Greenfield couldn’t see him, Nate still tried to keep the shock off his face as he looked down at the frail man hooked up to machines. He knew what had happened—everyone did—but he hadn’t imagined the ruined face, the shattered shoulder, the slow, rasping breath.
“Mister,” Nate began, then cleared his throat. He went closer to the bed, drawing up the plastic chair from beside the bed table. What the hell should he say? Sorry I got your daughters disappeared? Here’s hoping they come back before you die?
Or…
What had Cassie called him? Dad? Pa?
“Pa,” Nate said, keeping his voice light. “It’s Cassie.” He reached out and patted Mr. Greenfield’s hand, trying not to flinch at the paper-thin skin. “I just wanted to let you know that everything’s okay. School is fine. The All-Ways is fine. The farm is fine.”
What else? What else could he say to this man who had been disgraced because he’d wanted to die by his own hand?
“Pa. It’s Becca.” Nate thought—what would Becca say? “I got a sixty-seven on a math test. The teacher says I can retake it.”
Nate patted Mr. Greenfield’s other hand. “But everything is fine. Um, a window accidentally got broken, but Cassie can fix it. Don’t worry. You just get better, okay?”
Mr. Greenfield would never get better. His labored breathing told Nate that the end he’d sought months ago was at last drawing near.
God, this was all a mess. His own mother, Cassie’s dad—the twins. How many more people would his father ruin?
“Okay, Pa,” Nate said. “I gotta go. My shift is starting at the All-Ways. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Feeling overwhelmed by a sudden grief, Nate stood and stumbled past the nurse coming in. The ride home had never been so long.
64
MS. STREPP
“SHE’S FITTING IN SURPRISINGLY WELL.” Warden Bell’s dry observation echoed what Helen Strepp had been thinking.
“Look here,” Ms. Strepp said, pointing at one of the screens from a bank that almost covered the wall. It was focused on the inmates’ recreation yard—an outdoor, chain-linked rectangle as gray and grim as the rest of the prison. Cassie Greenfield was sitting cross-legged on the cement, surrounded by fellow prisoners. She had the nerve to be playing one of those patty-cake hand games that Ms. Strepp had never gotten the hang of. Prisoners were gathered around, watching and raising their hands to be next. Some of them were actually smiling. In the past several weeks, Cassie Greenfield had become unusually influential.
“She’s… quite dangerous,” Ms. Strepp said.
“Yes,” Warden Bell agreed. “Just as we hoped. Don’t get attached to this one, either, Strepp. You know the one-way path she’s on.”
“I know.” Ms. Strepp was irritated at the Warden’s suggestion that she was getting soft, sentimental. It was nothing like that.
“How are the experiments going?” The Warden’s shrewd gaze seemed to look right inside Ms. Strepp’s head.
“They are… ongoing,” Ms. Strepp said shortly. In fact, she was concerned. The video feed showed Rebecca Greenfield standing by the chain-link fence, sullenly watching her sister. Ms. Strepp had expected the twins to immediately join forces, combining their strengths. Instead, the opposite had happened, against all her expectations.
“Okay, now watch this.” Ms. Strepp pointed at a screen showing the same scene from a different angle. The two women watched as a hulking behavior problem strode up to Cassie and kicked her none too gently in the back.
Cassie stood slowly, her once-animated face turning expressionless.
“Her sister beat her easily in the ring,” Warden Bell murmured.
“Yes. But that was weeks ago. She’s made progress.”
“Let’s hope this lunk doesn’t cripple her.” The Warden’s voice held a note of warning, telling Ms. Strepp not to push things too far.