“Then who will come with us?” I ask the room.

She’s right that we have no map to tell us where to go or where to find safe houses—we’ll have to figure it out as we go along. She’s also right that we can’t do this alone. If I follow my own rationale that two is better than one, then I must admit that many is better than two. But which members can we trust?

To my great surprise, every single member rises to his or her feet. I look to Mira: she wasn’t expecting this either. We discussed the one or two people we hoped would accompany us on our missions, but we didn’t expect this many. A swell of emotion surges through my chest and up to my head, making me slightly dizzy.

“It appears it’s not a matter of who will go with you; it’s where each of us will go,” Emery says, gripping the lapels of her yellow jacket, clearly proud to be a part of such a courageous group.

The Common is unanimously willing to follow where Mira and I lead. They are with us. Maybe there wasn’t a betrayal after all.

Pawel steps forward. “I offer myself wholly to Ava’s mission,” he says formally, standing close at my side. “If you’ll have me, that is.” He’s shivering. Is he frightened or excited? He should be panic-stricken.

“Crossing the border will be an extremely high-risk undertaking,” I warn Pawel, turning to face him. “Even if we make it across without getting captured or killed, we could still be shot if we get anywhere close to Senator Gordon. Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Going with me takes him away from his sister, Ellie.

Pawel meets my eyes, his face completely open and trusting.

“I’m sure,” he says. He must be doing this for her.

Kano and Barend advance toward the head of the table at the same time. “I offer you my protection on your mission, Mira,” Kano vows to my sister. “And I offer you mine,” Barend says to me, both men clasping our shoulders, pledging themselves to us.

“I offer my diplomatic skills to Ava’s mission,” Emery vows, gripping my shoulder. She gives me a confident wink. “I also know a thing or two about crossing border walls.”

The leader of the rebellion wants to join me? I’m immediately filled with gratitude and an abrupt sense of longing. It’s like having Rayla back on my team.

Ciro clears his throat, calling the room’s attention back to himself. He solemnly buttons his suit jacket. “If Emery is pledged to Ava, it stands to reason that Mira’s team needs a Common leader as well.” It’s unwelcomely clear he’s about to offer himself to Mira’s mission. The moneyman is nothing but dead weight out on the field.

Exuding self-sacrifice, Ciro glides to the front to stand beside my sister. Barend directs a heated gaze at him, and Ciro glares back, daring Barend to intervene.

What’s that all about? Does Barend want Ciro to stay so he can better plot their betrayal?

“I offer my abundant connections to Mira’s mission,” Ciro says to the room, the very picture of gallantry. “The relationships I have spent my entire life fostering were carefully procured for a moment just like this.”

Mira and I lock eyes, communicating with a glance: There’s nothing for it; he’s the one funding the missions. All Mira can do is nod.

“Who will go to North California, New York, and Michigan?” Emery asks, turning to face the remaining Common members. “We will ask Rayla Cadwell to take on Colorado—if anyone can flip that senator, she can. She knows him well; it is her adopted state.”

Rayla. My heart skips a beat. Where is she? I half expected our grandmother to be at headquarters, waiting for us upon our return, but I know she’s somewhere in the US, on an important mission of her own.

Will Rayla go to Colorado by herself, or will she have a team too? The Common has to deliver our grandmother her assignment somehow—maybe we’ll get to talk to her again before we leave.

The remaining Elders, including the bearded naysayer, offer themselves to be sent to North California and Michigan, leaving only New York, which will be a difficult state to flip yellow. Millicent Cole, the governor of New York, is one of Roth’s staunchest allies, and she rules her state with an equally iron fist, her sharpened nails just as daggerlike and deadly as his. Getting to Senator Riggs will be extremely difficult.

“I offer my services in the battle for New York,” Skye announces boldly. “Governor Cole will not be a problem for me.” Skye has history in New York—the state’s Family Planning Director was one of her poisoned targets.

Emery grants her consent. A weighty silence follows.

I look around the room, amazed at what has happened in so short a time. Six separate missions have been formed, yet each team will fan across the continent for a common goal: to bring down Roth.

Take the head, and the rest will follow.

“We will gather our intelligence and supplies, sleep the little we can, then leave at daybreak,” Emery says, closing the meeting. “We will reconvene in the Medical Room in half an hour.” She proceeds quickly toward the door, Pawel following close at her heels. The leading members of the Common file out after her, until only my sister and I remain in the large room.

“It worked,” I say, the enormity of what’s about to happen setting in. Half in disbelief, I turn to face Mira. I clasp her shoulder, and she clasps mine. “You’re ready for this.”

“We both are,” Mira says, her voice strong and steady. We press our foreheads together. “How far we’ve come, Ava.”

A part of me is still torn. I don’t want to separate from my sister. But we are being called to different actions, and we must answer our own call.

MIRA

I look at my watch: 2:00 a.m.

Three more hours until Ava leaves me and I leave her. It’s a voluntary separation, but the truth is I’m terrified. Not for me, but for my twin. No one can watch over her like her own blood. But I have to let her go—she doesn’t belong to just me anymore.

“Everyone’s ready,” Emery says as the elevator door slides open to Tower Three, Level Two. “We thought it right for you both to do the honors.”

All nine members who offered themselves to perilous missions stand in a majestic line inside the Medical Room. Emery breaks from my side and moves to the open space held for her. In the Common salute, she holds down her right arm, fist clenched, exposing her tattooed wrist. One by one, the others do the same.

Ava and I hover outside the elevator, taking in the moment, staring at the two instrument stands, each tray filled with everything we need for the quick procedure.

Cut out your microchips, Rayla told the nation. Show those in power we won’t be controlled.

Like Ava and me, everyone here also has counterfeit chips. Hard-earned, incredibly rare implants that have allowed all of us to evade the government and stand where we are today. They’re also an unspoken safety net. If plans and hope collapse, if we fail, the counterfeit chips offer a last-resort option for them to return to the United States. The others could start over, form new identities to match their fake chips, conform, blend in, and live out an underground life. Knowing the safety net is there if the Common towers fall is not an easy thing to cut loose.

Eighteen years I survived without a microchip. More than fear even, I always felt envy and inadequacy. As if I had a defect because I was chipless. To contemplate a reality where people could exist unmonitored, independent of a piece of metal that tells us we belong, is almost unimaginable.