“The plan is fool-proof, I promise,” Lucy said and she looked to Cass for confirmation. Over the last hour, they had deliberated and plotted, schemed and assessed. Sitting in the middle of the Center, after the crowd had cleared and the recreation activities resumed, they huddled together, absent-mindedly playing a game, and talking in hushed tones. Occasionally someone would come up to Lucy and ask a question about the world outside. Huck’s announcement had launched her from rumor to quasi-celebrity.

“Did you hear anything about what happened to Chicago?” one lady asked.

“Was the virus quick? Did people suffer?” asked another.

One boy just wanted to know about the animals at the zoo.

Eventually the attention died down and Cass and Lucy would go back to planning. To any outside observer they were just two girls enjoying the rest of their afternoon, but the air around them was tinged with hushed excitement.

“So, we’ll need a mechanic.”

“Who can be bought.”

“Kip,” Cass replied. “A sweetheart. Won’t be able to resist.”

“How do we talk to him?”

Cass laughed and then pointed her arm straight out in front of her, the trajectory of her finger landing on a guy no more than twenty feet away. He was a bulky redhead playing a game of darts. With a wink, Cass hopped up and waltzed over, touching Kip on the arm and pointing to Lucy, where Lucy responded with a half-wave and a smile. She had no idea how Cass was luring him into their plans, but she trusted her new friend’s instincts.

Kip the mechanic willingly set down his darts and shuffled over, dragging his feet along the wood.

“The famous Lucy, huh?” he asked as a question as he extended his hand. “Cass says you have a question to ask me.”

Lucy peered around his large frame to look at Cass, who stood behind and nodded. It would ruin the whole plan if she pitched their idea and Kip was expecting a different proposition.

“It’s a task,” Lucy added to safeguard and couch her offer in transparency. Honesty was a rule of the System after all. “And it’s secret.”

The mechanic smiled. “Hey now…I don’t need to get myself into any trouble.”

Cass stepped forward. “It’s like this. In an hour or so, my dad will call the main elevator guards and tell them that he’s discovered something malfunctioning. And he’s sending you to fix it.”

They had thought of the plan early on—the only hiccup was getting Cass’s dad to call in the non-broken elevator. Lucy suggested Cass tell her dad the truth, she needed Frank; and after much deliberation it was decided—he would help. His agreement was born from the fear that without his help they would make a mess of the situation and land themselves in trouble.

“But there’s nothing wrong with the elevator. I’m following,” Kip said and he brought his hand up to the base of his neck and scratched his hairline, tilting his head and scrunching up his face as he did. “And then? What is it you’re after?”

Lucy reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bag of jerky that she had stolen from her mother’s pantry. She handed it to him, placed it in his palm, and closed his freckled hands around it. “For Frank.”

And Kip nodded with recognition. “I wondered why I hadn’t seen that thing around here. Thought maybe people started to complain.” He sighed. “Okay, I head up, fix the elevator, come back down and say to the guards, hey look, I found Frank?”

Cass and Lucy nodded.

“We’ll be waiting to claim him. Don’t let the guards say they’ll take him back. Say you want to do it yourself,” Lucy added, afraid that their whole plan would fall apart if a guard looking for some extra kudos took Frank before they could.

“I hate to ask…but I imagine you have something in mind. What’s in for me?” Kip said and grimaced as the words left his mouth. Cass patted him on the shoulder and then gave a little squeeze.

The prize wouldn’t have been much in the pre-release days, but even in her short time in the System, Lucy knew she had something valuable to give. In addition to stealing the jerky, which would likely not be missed, Lucy had taken something far more treasured. For a full week, Maxine had bartered with those in charge of their food allotment to give her fresh mangoes. Fresh food was rare. Exhausting all available means, Maxine was given the last two mangoes in the entirety of the underground System; she had paid a hefty price—two pantry trips and five of her ration cards. The implication was clear: Maxine would rather skip meals than go without the mangoes.

Juicy and sweet, a treat beyond compare, the fruit represented what they could not have until they left this place—it represented what they had taken advantage of in the world before and what they could have again when Huck’s new cities were built. Getting them was a sacrifice, and even Lucy understood their importance.

Beyond the basic reasons why the mangoes were special, they were also Lucy’s favorite food. And she knew that her mother fought for them for her. The mangoes were a peace-offering, an olive branch; a subtle and tender way to let Lucy know that she wouldn’t let her go and that her needs would be met here. As Lucy had tucked the green, yellow, and pink orbs into a small sack, her stomach ached.

Stealing the fruit was a worse sin than anything she had done.

She took her mother’s hope and hard work. And when her mother discovered their absence, she would be devastated.

For the greater good, she had said to herself as she slipped out to meet Cass, the weight of the contraband against her hip. She recognized the irony of using Huck’s words in an act that would defy his own orders. At that moment, she paused and closed her eyes. Maybe all of life was just a giant struggle—a giant, beautiful, complicated struggle—and those who hurt the ones they loved the least were the winners.

Still feeling the weight of guilt on her shoulders, Lucy looked at Kip’s eagerness and sighed. She tugged the bag free and motioned for him to come closer. Then she let him glimpse inside. His eyes grew wide with astonishment and excitement. For a second, Lucy was glad that Kip recognized their value, because she had been afraid she would have to sell him on the luxury.

“To eat. Or to trade,” Cass added.

Kip let his hands drop to his sides and then raised his eyebrows. “Trade, of course. You know what I can get for those? Fine, I’m in. I’ll go wait for the call.”

Blair opened the door to her apartment a half-inch and looked out at Lucy. She seemed surprised to see the familiar teenager standing outside her door and she made a move to close it, but then paused. She opened the door again, only a crack, and assessed Lucy.

“What do you want?” Blair asked warily. Lucy scooted to the left, her hand on Frank’s collar, and she pointed down to the dog without saying a word. When Blair noticed the lab, she flung the door open wide and dropped to her knees, grabbing Frank behind the ears and pressing her nose against his wet nose.

“Frank!” she cried and then she pulled back. “How did you—? Oh my goodness. Come, quick. Get inside.”

Stumbling forward, Lucy found herself in the front hallway of Blair’s apartment. Unlike her family’s place, Blair’s area was light and new—her furniture was modern; she had bright rugs and art pieces on the walls. It also looked like Blair was in need of a maid. Snack wrappers littered the mahogany coffee table and piles of clothes collected near the door to her bedroom. Even though it was only early evening, Blair was already in her pajamas—soft flannel that hugged her body and accentuated her perfect proportions.

“I’m sorry it’s a mess,” Blair said quickly as she saw Lucy scan her clutter.

Frank ran around in a circle, barking and wagging his tail. Then he ran over to Blair’s small kitchen and nosed around. His food and water dish remained untouched since he’d been gone and the dog did not waste any time inhaling the leftover kibble and lapping up the water.