“I know a place,” Rosie says at the exact moment Megan blurts, “We’ll hide him!”
“Where?” Noah asks Megan.
“I know a place,” Rosie says again.
“Is there another embassy that would take him?” I ask. “I know the US won’t do it, but what about —”
A piercing whistle fills the room. Slowly, we all turn to look at Rosie.
“As I was saying,” she starts slowly, “I happen to know a place. It’s just that” — she looks skeptically at Alexei — “it may be a little … rough.”
For the first time since black smoke and fire filled the street, Alexei grins. “I can handle rough.”
“Don’t worry. You aren’t in this alone,” I say, but my words are hollow. I mean them. I swear, I really do. But I have been the one in danger — the one at the center of a secret. And no matter how many people surround you, that is still the loneliest place on earth.
“Do you have everything you need?” I ask for what has to be the twentieth time. At least. And for the twentieth time, Alexei looks at me.
“I will be fine, Gracie. Thank you.”
I look around at the hodgepodge of things that lie scattered on the dirt floor.
Rosie’s “place” is high in the hills that rim the north edge of the city. I don’t know how she found it or how long she’s known about it, but I am sure that no one is going to stumble across Alexei here anytime soon. The entrance is narrow, barely wide enough to slip through. And the stone ceiling overhead has cracks that show the stars, enough air circulation that it is safe to build a fire.
It’s as good a place as any to hide, but I’m not a hider. I’m a runner and a fighter. It goes against my every instinct to sit on the ground in this cold, dark place, waiting for things to get better, but that is exactly what Alexei has to do.
“Noah’s dad likes to go camping,” I say, desperate to fill the silence. “He managed to smuggle out a stove and a sleeping bag, and we have some water and protein bars in that bag. You’re supposed to be able to make coffee with one of those contraptions, but the instructions are in Portuguese, so —”
“Grace.” Alexei’s hands are on my arms. His skin is warm against mine. I was starting to worry I might never feel warm again.
“We’re going to take turns bringing you food and stuff, so don’t worry. Someone will be here tomorrow with —”
“Grace, I’m fine.” Alexei’s voice is steady, but my hands shake.
“If there is anything in particular you’d like, just let me know. You’ve got Rosie’s phone and all of our numbers, but we probably shouldn’t use them except for emergencies because —”
“Grace,” Alexei says again, pulling me closer. I am trying to be strong, for him and for me. But the trying is too much sometimes — too hard — and I feel myself fall against him.
I’m not fighting anymore.
“When I saw that car explode …”
Alexei smooths my hair. He rests his cheek against the top of my head and holds me tighter.
“I know,” he says.
“I smelled smoke,” I somehow mutter. “I hate the smell of smoke. My mom … There was a fire. And ever since then …”
I’m shaking now, even as Alexei holds me tighter. The wound in my side hurts and I wince but I don’t want to pull away.
“It’s okay,” he says even though he’s the one who almost died, even though I should be comforting him.
“I’m sorry,” I say, because it’s what I always say. To Jamie and my grandpa and the world. I’m always sorry. Because the world broke a long time ago, and it was my fault. This is my fault, too. I just know it. And I have no idea how to fix it. “I’m sorry, Alexei.”
But, somehow, he laughs.
“I have never been drugged before. It was a new experience for me. And considering it saved my life …”
“Not for that.” I pull away and wipe my nose on my sleeve. “For my country. For how quick we were to hate you. I’m so sorry we’re so out for vengeance.”
Alexei is silent for too long. Even in his arms, I can feel his stare. “Are you not out for vengeance, Gracie?”
I push away from him and put my hand on my side, hurting. “Not from you.”
I don’t talk about the Scarred Man or the Society, the prime minister or whatever villain is still out there, unknown and unnamed.
Vengeance is like gravity for me. Always present, pulling me in a direction that I can no longer feel. It is simply the fact of my life, of who I am. Someday, though, I’m going to break free. And when that happens, I may very well just float away.
Alexei leans down and turns on one of Noah’s father’s lanterns. Its yellow glow fills the cave. Shadows dance across the walls. Overhead, a small sliver of rapidly darkening sky is the only thing that reminds me that there is a world out there, beyond the safety of this stone cocoon.
“It’s getting late,” he says. “You should go home. It would not do for your grandfather and Jamie to worry.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I mean, should someone tell your dad that you’re okay?” The dad who wanted to throw Alexei to the wolves just this morning.
“Everyone at the embassy will know I wasn’t in the car. They will feel nothing but relief.”