Ash doesn’t say anything.
“I didn’t think so,” Sebastian says, then turns to me. “Just know it could have been prevented.”
I watch Sebastian walk away, my head spinning.
“What was that all about, bro?” Beetle asks.
Ash shoots me a worried look, and my stomach knots as it dawns on me why he’s been acting so weird lately.
“They got to you, didn’t they?” I say to him.
Ash rubs the back of his neck.
Beetle’s mouth hangs open. “Mate?”
“Rose told me if I didn’t vote in favor of his law, he’d . . .” Ash looks at me. His black eyes are filled with shame.
My heart cramps. He doesn’t need to say it.
“Natalie, I’m so sorry,” he says in a rush. “What could I do? So many people were relying on me; I had to do it. I—”
I gently kiss him. “It’s okay, I understand.”
My life isn’t worth more than millions of others. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve done the same thing. It’s a testament to how much he loves me that he even considered voting in favor of Rose’s Law to protect me.
“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” I say gently. “I would’ve told you to vote no. I’m not afraid of Purian Rose.” That last bit is a lie, but I don’t want Ash to know how scared I am right now. What does Rose have planned for me?
Ash pulls me toward him, holding me tight. “I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll die before I allow that to happen.”
I look over his shoulder at the three crosses near the Boundary Wall. I don’t doubt his words. I know he’d die to save me—he’s done it before.
The rest of our families join us.
“We should go home before it gets dark,” Sumrina says.
Beetle and Roach head to the Legion to discuss defensive strategies with Sigur, while Amy glumly helps Juno and Stuart pack up the equipment on stage.
Ash glances toward the Boundary Wall.
“You should go with Beetle,” I say.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he says. “Will you come with me? It’ll be safer for you there.”
“If the Sentry wants me, they’ll get me no matter where I am,” I say. “Besides, I want to check on Polly and make sure she’s all right.”
If my sister is having one of her bad days, like Day said she was, then she needs me.
Ash flicks another look at the ghetto.
“It’s okay. Go,” I say. “I know there’s going to be a lot of business to discuss.”
“Roach can deal with it,” he says. “I’m not leaving your side.”
I smile, secretly grateful he’s staying with me.
The town square is almost entirely deserted, since the majority of people hurried home when it was clear the vote wasn’t going in our favor. All around the city, doors have been locked and shutters closed as people wait for the Sentry government’s retaliation for our public defiance of Purian Rose.
The streets are swarming with Sentry guards, and I doubt they’ll leave again. They’re setting up roadblocks, which is alarming. They obviously don’t want people to leave the city. What do they have planned for us? Ash keeps me close to him, while Harold and Michael flank us as we hurry back to the Rise, sticking to the back alleys to avoid the guards. Even so, I keep glancing nervously about me, worried one of Purian Rose’s men will appear out of the shadows and snatch me.
My heart races when something to my right catches my eye—a flash of a golden-brown tail disappearing over the rooftop. A cat. I really am getting spooked. The sooner I’m home, the better.
The Rise is eerily quiet when we arrive. Curtains are drawn and lights are out in the high-rise tenements and Cinderstone shacks. No children play in the cobbled streets. I feel like a trespasser in my own home. We reach the Ivy Church, where Ash and his father live. Harold says his good-byes, not questioning Ash when he stays behind with me.
We turn down Cinder Street, and I’m almost knocked off my feet by a wave of heat. Men, women and children are running in and out of their homes, all carrying heavy pots and pans, water splashing over the sides. Acrid smoke fills the air. At the bottom of the street, twenty soot-covered men are throwing buckets of water over the source of the fire. It’s our house.
“MJ!” Day screams, running down the alley.
My stomach lurches. “Polly!”
I turn to Ash, but he’s frozen, transfixed by the flames. I grab his hand, snapping him out of his nightmare. We sprint down the alley, ignoring the blistering heat. This must be torture for Ash, but he doesn’t leave my side. We reach the house. Flames spill out of the windows and consume the roof. The whole street could go up if we don’t put the fire out soon, but that’s not my concern now.
“MJ! MJ!” Michael yells, searching for his son in the crowd.
I grab one of the men carrying buckets of water. “Did you see a teenage girl and a young boy leave the house?”
The man shakes his head. Without pausing to consider the risks, I push past the men and barge into the house, ignoring their pleas for me to stay outside. Ash follows a heartbeat behind, an arm over his mouth and nose. The kitchen is ablaze. The floral wallpaper has been entirely stripped away to reveal the Cinderstone bricks underneath, which glow like embers.
“Polly! MJ!” I yell, and immediately start choking on the scorching fumes.
They’re not in the kitchen, so I head farther into the house, raising my arm to protect my face from the heat. Ash grabs the door handle leading into Michael and Sumrina’s bedroom and yells out in pain as the flesh on his palm sizzles.
“We can’t go in there!” he shouts. “The whole room must be an inferno!”
We hurry to MJ’s room. It’s billowing with smoke, and I can barely breathe.
“MJ?” I cough.
No answer.
I check Polly’s room next. Nothing.
Which leaves one room: the bedroom I share with Day. Paint is peeling off the door, and the wood is warped from heat. Oh, God, please let them be alive. I shove the wooden door with my shoulder, the force making my teeth rattle. It doesn’t budge. Ash joins me, and we hit it together. This time the door buckles, and I tumble into the room. The air is thick with smoke. Ash and I frantically search for my sister and MJ.
“They’re not here! Did they get out?” I call out to Ash.
A sickening thought strikes me. Are they in Michael and Sumrina’s room? Tears spring to my eyes, and I turn, ready to rush back to their bedroom, when I hear a small moan from the wardrobe near my bed. The sound is barely audible over the crackle of burning wood. A chair has been pushed in front of the wardrobe, and I knock it aside and yank the cupboard door open. MJ topples out. I catch him before he hits the floor.
He’s alive, but barely conscious.
“MJ . . . MJ, wake up!” I slap his face to rouse him.
He looks up at me with confused brown eyes.
“Where’s Polly? Is she here?”
A shake of his head. “Gone.” He slips into unconsciousness.
Polly isn’t here. My relief is quickly countered by worry. Where is she? Ash lifts MJ over his shoulder. I snatch my bottle of heart medication off my nightstand, tucking it into my pocket, and we rush out of the room. The hallway is ablaze, and the heat claws at my skin, scorching my eyes and lungs. I hold my breath as we push through the corridor, barely avoiding a pile of burning books as it topples into our path. Flames lick up the walls and over the ceiling, making the wooden beams above us creak and splinter. There’s a terrible cracking sound, and Ash shoves me, sending me flying out the front doorway into the street just as the roof caves in behind us.
Cool air smacks me in the face, and I gasp deep lungfuls of it before crashing to the ground. Michael takes his son from Ash, who kneels on the cobblestones beside me, coughing up soot. Someone hands us a pan of water, and I let Ash drink first before guzzling the remainder myself. My throat feels scorched, on fire.
“Are you okay?” I say croakily.
He manages a nod, but his whole body is shaking.
Day rushes over to me after she’s tended to MJ.
“Polly?” she says.
“Not here,” I reply. “I don’t know where she is.”
Day gasps. “Natalie!”
She points toward the house. It takes me a moment to realize what I’m looking at through the smoke, and then I see it.
Painted on the side of the house is a bright red rose.
8.
NATALIE
“POLLY! POLLY!” I yell.
Ash holds me back, and I kick and whale against him like a wild animal. I know the symbol is a message for me. Purian Rose has taken Polly. Sebastian’s words ring in my head: Just know it could’ve been prevented. They never intended to kill me. I make these little hiccupping sounds until my chest hurts.
“Why won’t Rose leave us alone?” I say.
“Because we’re a threat,” Ash replies.
“But Polly wasn’t a threat. MJ wasn’t a threat!” I say. “Why should they suffer because of something you did?”
Ash flinches.
I regret the words as soon as they fall out of my mouth.
“I didn’t mean that,” I say.
“It’s true, though.”
I pull away from Ash, my whole body shaking with rage at the Sentry. They took my sister, they tried to kill MJ. Who else will they hurt to get back at us? A name suddenly springs into my mind.
“Harold!” I exclaim.
What better way to punish Ash than to kill his father? We push our way through the crowds of people trying to put out the fire, and sprint through the streets until we reach the Ivy Church.
We burst through the front door.
“Dad!” Ash yells.
Harold comes rushing out of the kitchen and goes pale when he sees us.
“Oh, my heavens! What happened?”
We tell him about the house fire, about Polly and MJ and the rose symbol. When we’re done, I collapse in a kitchen chair, utterly drained. Ash tentatively rubs my back. I lift my head up to face him, tears in my eyes. It strikes me how gaunt he’s looking, with deep shadows under his sharp cheekbones, the stress of the past two months catching up with him. I wonder when he last ate something.
“I really am sorry for what I said earlier, about this being your fault,” I say. “It’s not.”
“It is, in a way.” Ash lowers his lashes. “Rose told me he was going to take ‘Miss Buchanan.’ It didn’t even occur to me it could be your sister.”
“Did Purian Rose tell you what he had planned for her?” I say quietly.
“No,” he says, not looking at me.
He’s lying, but maybe it’s best I don’t know.
Harold fetches Ash a sachet of Synth-O-Blood from the fridge and makes me a cup of herbal tea. I stare at the tea leaves drifting down to the bottom of the cup, thinking about Polly. She must be so scared. Another sob escapes my lips. Ash cradles me in his arms as Harold goes to get Day and her family. The front door closes. We’re alone.
“Am I a bad person, Ash?” I say.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because my whole family has been taken away from me,” I say. “My father was killed, Polly’s been kidnapped, and I have no idea where my mother is. It’s too much.”
He hooks a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. “We’ll get through this.” He kisses me softly, trying to take the pain away. It works for a while, like a dam holding back the tides, but the second he breaks the kiss, it all comes flooding back, worse than before.
“I wish my mother were here,” I whisper. “She’d know what to do.”
Ash’s arms tighten around me, but he says nothing.
Thirty minutes later, Harold returns with the others. He helps Michael bring MJ into the church on a makeshift stretcher while Day carries the few charred possessions they’ve managed to salvage from the wreckage. Our whole lives fit into one bag. I briefly think about the birthday gifts I was given yesterday. They would have gone up in flames along with the house. I lightly touch the pendant around my neck, grateful that I never took it off. It’s covered in soot, but it seems intact.
They bring MJ into Harold’s bedroom and make him comfortable, and everyone sorts out where they’re going to sleep now that we’re homeless. We all get comfortable while Sumrina clatters about the tiny kitchen, the bustle of her cerulean dress knocking into our chairs as she moves about. She manages to find an old apron tucked in the back of one of the cupboards and ties it around her wide hips. Rolling up her sleeves, she sweeps her silken black hair up into a bun and starts making dinner, despite Harold’s protests. She seems to need the distraction.
Michael finishes setting up the beds downstairs and reenters the kitchen. The small room doesn’t have any of the homeyness that our kitchen did. There’s no floral wallpaper, no smell of bread baking in the oven, no woman’s touch, but that’s hardly surprising, since only Harold and Ash live here, and it’s not like Ash has any real need for a kitchen—he can’t eat human food.
Day sits beside me. “We’ll find her, Nat.”
I take in a shaky breath.
“At least she’s alive—that’s something to hold on to,” Day continues.
I don’t say anything. There’s no guarantee my sister is alive.
Night starts to creep in through the windows, and the air-raid siren wails across the city, letting us know curfew has started. Harold lights some candles while Day phones Beetle to tell him what happened. The instant he arrives, he begins a tirade about how he’s going to kill every single Sentry in the country for what they did. Right now, that sounds like a really good idea. I want them to suffer too.