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By August, more than ninety people will be here, half of whom have never been away from home. Who thought it was a good idea to put their lives in the hands of these three kids, only one of them old enough to drink?

I grab some eggs from the kitchen—my first real food in two days. I sit in silence while the three of them talk about the work to be done and swap stories about people I don't know.

The stories aren't especially interesting, but it's soothing in a way: no one at Bright Covenant is the type to have a sex tape on Hallpass, and few would discuss it if they did.

I'm tasked with washing mountains of laundry all day, then I sit through another dull dinner—we're just eating premade meals so that they don't have to open any of the big cans.

On the way back to the dorm, I ask Louise if I can make a call. The look she gives me makes goose bumps stand on my arms.

“You don't need to talk to anyone. Don't ask me that again.” She too, apparently, knows something.

The next day, when I’m in the middle of folding sheets, Tommy appears with a pen and paper.

“We need you to write your friend Kappy,” he says. “People are claiming you've been kidnapped, and Kappy's mom is leading the charge. They want proof that you've left willingly.”

“Can I call?” I ask.

Tommy's nostrils flare. “Stop asking. No. You can send her a letter.”

Is there a way I could get a message to her in code? I could allude to Fort William, where Randall holds Clare prisoner in Outlander...but it's too obvious and too strange. The elders would know I was up to something. I could use the word leverage somewhere in it—the results of those DNA tests ought to be back soon—but what problem does it really solve? Even if I return, I can't go back to school, and I won't be going to college.

Karla might let me stay with them, but...I can't imagine being in Penhallow again.

“Maybe I don't feel like writing a letter,” I tell him.

“Grace,” he sighs. “Please. This is the friend you wanted to talk to, right? It's the only chance you're going to get.”

I stare at the cracked tile beneath my feet. Can I really not even send letters here for the next two years?

“I'll send it if you allow her to write me back.”

His lips purse. “I'll ask.”

A few hours later, he confirms that she'll be allowed to write me back and warns me that the elders will be reading what I write, which I'd already assumed.

Dear Kappy,

Hi! I'm in Bolivia, out somewhere in the countryside, and I'm safe. This isn't the way I wanted things to work out, but I can't imagine returning to Penhallow under the circumstances either. I do wish, though, that I was there to hear your speech at graduation.

You're the best friend I've ever had.

Love,

Grace

I weep after I've handed it over to Tommy. By the time I talk to Kappy again, she'll be halfway through college, with a new set of friends. She'll probably barely remember me.

My mood tanks once the letter has been sent. It felt like the end of a story, the last piece of my time at Penhallow. I can barely summon a smile in response to Tommy’s cheerful greetings as the day goes on. That night there’s a single flower, partly withered, in a cup of water on my nightstand. I suppose it’s from Tommy since Joshua acts as if I don’t exist and Louise doesn’t seem to like me.

It’s kind of him, but it’s going to take a lot more than a flower to make me happy I’m here.

The following afternoon, Tommy finds me in the middle of hanging laundry. “You want to go for a walk?” he asks.

My brow furrows. We are enclosed by a twelve-foot barbed wire fence, and the ground is bare of nearly all vegetation aside from weeds. “You mean outside the compound?”

He frowns. “We’re not supposed to walk around out there.”

So, it would basically be like a stroll around a prison yard, but hotter and dustier. “Thanks,” I tell him, “but I want to get through this.”