My hand twitches. My eyes drill into the baker's. Bread, not trouble. I take a deep breath. Focus, son, remember the goal. My face feels like it will crack, but I plaster on one of my classic Gatsbro grins--the kind I always used to get him to back off. "Unless," I say, "you want to cut your price in half. Then I would say you had the best bread in town."

The baker is glad for the out. "You're darn right I do." He turns to the land pirate and charges him the standard price for two loaves of bread.

"Yeah," I say, before I walk away. "Best bread in town."

The walk home is quick.

I feel strong. Empowered.

More than I have felt since--

Ever.

Chapter 62

I watch Miesha's lips move, but I can't decipher what she's saying. The words are chopped into pieces.

"What is--"

I'm here, Locke. Soon.

If I'm able to hear Kara, she's close. The garage? My bedroom? Jenna's room? She's watching and waiting. I glance down the length of the back porch.

"--are you--"

Just you and me. Together. Always.

"Listen to--"

It won't be long.

"--the matter."

Miesha's voice is getting louder, but I still can't follow her words. I stare harder. Focus on her mouth, her teeth.

Do you love me, Locke? Do you love me?

"Look at--"

Remember. Don't tell.

"--what--"

Say my name, Locke. Say it now. Say it!

I squeeze my head with both hands. "Kara! Kara!" I scream.

Miesha grabs my hands and pulls them away from my head. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

The voice stops. My breaths gallop in my chest. I stare at Miesha. My pulse pounds in my ears. "Nothing!" I hear the wildness of my reply.

She still has hold of my arms. "Look at you. You look like a crazed fool. What is--"

"Nothing, Miesha." I force calm into my voice. "I promise. It was a flashback. That's all."

"All? I can practically see your heart pounding through your shirt." She pulls me away from the house. I don't know where we're headed, but I let her lead me. "Some flashback," she says. "You've never had an episode like that before. Let's not let the others see you like this, especially little Kayla. It would upset her." She leads me down a path and then through a tunnel of overgrown bushes that are waving in the wind. The tunnel opens into a grassy circular clearing with a bench at its center. "Kayla brought me and Dot here this morning. It's a good private place for you to pull yourself together."

I'm thankful there is no sound other than the wind rustling the bushes and an occasional chirp from a hidden bird. Miesha sits beside me on the bench but is silent, giving me the space I need.

After several minutes, she finally asks, "You okay now?"

I nod. "As okay as I can be. Considering."

She sighs. "I wish I could say it was going to get easier."

I wish she would say it too, even if it's not true. "But I'm illegal and hunted. This is as good as it gets. That's what you're saying."

"Not exactly." She leans back, looking up into the trees around us. "Kayla brought me and Dot here this morning to feed the birds. She says this is her favorite place in the world. You'll find your place too. Eventually."

"My place is gone, Miesha. Forever."

"Your old place in the world. Yes. There's no getting that back. But as bad as that may seem, there are some people who have never had as much as you--they've never had a place in this world at all and can never hope to. That's what my husband worked for. Finding a place, making a place, it takes hard work."

I remember what she told me about getting out of prison and trying to build a new life. "What about you? Have you found your place?"

She shrugs. "It's still a work in progress." She turns to face me. Her eyes squint, and I watch her breaths come quicker. It is rare that Miesha succumbs to nerves.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

She swallows and takes a slow, measured breath. "Locke, there's something else about myself I need to tell you. Something that I've wanted to tell--"

"Is this a private party?"

Jenna stands at the entrance to the garden.

Miesha jumps up. "Of course not," she says. "Come in."

Jenna joins us. She remains standing and snaps off a small lavender blossom and twists it in her fingers. Ever since I arrived, she's been dressed in basic work clothes--blue jeans and plain cotton T-shirts. This evening she has on a thin white shift that flows almost to her ankles and ripples in the wind. She looks unearthly, like a wispy apparition that has floated here on the breeze.

"I just wanted to have a moment to talk with you before dinner," she says. "With Kayla around, I can't always talk freely. I thought you should know I've had some of my connections making inquiries ever since you came. The bad news is there's been no sign of Kara, but the good news is we have no reports of her being picked up, either. And we're fairly certain that Gatsbro doesn't have her. He's still gone from his labs in Manchester, and there haven't been any rumblings there about her. They checked his estate, and nothing there either, so that's at least some hopeful news, even if she's still missing."

I already know she hasn't been picked up and that Gatsbro hasn't caught her. I lean forward, burying my face in my hands, so it looks like the relief that Jenna expects and also so she can't see my face and read something I can't hide. But as I rest my face in my palms, I think about the risk Jenna has taken for us, reconnecting with a Network she had left behind. I look up at her, hopeful that she reads only gratitude on my face.