Mr. Crepsley sighed. "With luck, they will not find the body. If they do, I hope they will be unable to trace him to us."

"But if they do?" I pressed him for an answer.

"Then they will hunt us to the ends of the Earth," he said. "And they will kill us. We would not stand a chance. They would come in their dozens and the Generals would not assist us."

"Oh," I said. "I wish I hadn't asked."

"Would you rather I'd lied?"

I shook my head. "No. No more lies." I smiled. "But I think it'll be for the best if we don't tell Evra. What he doesn't know can't worry him. Besides, he's mad enough at me as it is. He thought I was really going to trade Debbie's life for his. He's furious."

"He will calm down when the facts are explained," Mr. Crepsley said confidently. "Now — shall we go and get him?"

I hesitated and looked down at Debbie. "Can I have a couple of minutes to myself?" I asked.

"Of course," Mr. Crepsley said. "But do not delay: dawn approaches and I do not wish to spend tomorrow trapped in those godforsaken tunnels. I will be downstairs." He departed.

I checked my watch. Nearly four in the morning. That meant this was the twenty-fifth of December. Christmas Day.

I worked quickly. I placed the bare Christmas tree to one side of Debbie's bed, opened the box of decorations, and covered the tree with glittering balls, tiny figures, streams of tinsel, and twinkling lights. When I finished, I turned Debbie so that she was facing toward the tree. It would be the first thing she'd see when she opened her eyes in the morning.

I felt bad about leaving without saying good-bye. This way, I hoped to make it up to her. When she woke and saw the tree, she'd know I hadn't slipped away thoughtlessly. She'd know I'd been thinking of her, and hopefully wouldn't hold my sudden disappearance against me.

I stood over her a few seconds, studying her face. This would almost certainly be the last time I'd ever see her. She looked so sweet, lying there asleep. I was tempted to find a camera and take a photo, but I didn't need to — this was one picture I'd always be able to remember in perfect detail. It would join those of my parents, my sister, Sam — cherished faces that would never fade in the mental galleries of my memory.

Leaning forward, I kissed her forehead and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "Merry Christmas, Debbie," I said quietly, then turned and left — and went to rescue Evra.