I don’t dare look at Theo. I don’t want him to see me crack.

Everyone will know tonight, Alexander promised me.

He’s going to announce I’ve been caught. He’s going to parade me in front of the public.

Turning his back on his second child, Alexander makes for the exit. “Take us to the Capitol building,” he orders.

I crack and turn to Theo. “When you can,” I mouth to him, “run.” Oh god, I hope he understands.

Possibilities race through my mind. I yield to the worst one. We’re likely headed for my public execution.

I lived as a secret. At least I won’t die as one.

Survive. Survive for me and your mother, my father’s last words scream in my head.

Father. Ava.

I tried.

AVA

My stomach drops abruptly along with the plane.

The pilot explained over the speakers that turbulence is perfectly normal and that all nervous flyers should sit in the center of the aircraft with their seat belts securely fastened. I filled in the details about atmospheric waves myself, remembering the old videos I used to watch with Mira in the basement, prepping ourselves in the unlikely event we ever got to fly.

Despite this knowledge, every time the airplane loses altitude, I think we’re going down. Each bump feels like a bomb sent by the Texas Guard.

We can’t hide from Roth, even in the sky.

Way too anxious to sit, I pace back and forth at the front of the cabin, close my eyes, and breathe. Why would anyone ever want to fly? It’s terrifying.

But it’s also efficient, though I can only imagine the cost—biofuel is like gold in our country.

This plane transport will get us to Dallas in three hours, making up for all the lost time we spent sitting useless in the cellar safe house. It was worth the sixteen-hour wait for our ride.

Soldiers still faithful to Senator Gordon were able to get my team and me on a small government plane, flown by an actual pilot rather than the autonomous system. The senator himself stayed behind to ignite the cause across Washington State and mobilize his citizens to our side. His task will be difficult—he’s battling against both Governor Elsen’s army and the Texas State Guard. But when we parted at the safe house, I saw the fight burning bright inside him—it’s like he relished being the underdog.

He gave me the rebellion salute, and I left feeling the strength our new recruit just added to the Common.

I stop pacing and take out my map—checking on the progress our missions have made calms my nerves.

Senator Riggs of New York

Senator López of North California

Senator Tate of Colorado

Senator Dalton of Michigan

Senator Gordon of Washington State

We’ve turned three states yellow. Four, counting Oregon, a state that wasn’t even on our list. It’s actually happening.

The Common’s long game of uniting the country through its senators is well underway, but we still don’t know if Mira succeeded with her part in all of this.

I didn’t give her mission much time to succeed. My stomach drops again, this time from guilt. Now that Governor Roth is running for president, Mira needs to have found something so significant and ironclad there’s no other outcome but for Roth to sink, drowning all his presidential hopes with him.

Just as another bout of turbulence hits, the cockpit door opens, and Barend comes into the main cabin. He crashes right into me, slamming my back against the drinks cart. My temper flares alongside my suspicion.

“What were you doing in the cockpit?” I ask. “Rerouting the plane?” He might be leading us into another trap. This time, right into Roth’s hands.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Barend snaps. “What right do you have to question me? You’re the one who endangered Ciro’s and the others’ missions.” He clenches his jaw tight, attempting to regain his composure. No, keep talking. I need to break your code of silence.

“You mean Mira’s mission?” I spit back. “Why did you choose to be on my mission team anyway?”

My father trained me to be a master of lies, deceiving everyone around me in order to survive. Now I want to live a life only of truth, but I hope I can use those hard-earned skills to detect another liar when I see one.

Maybe they’re harder to see when they’re right in front of you.

“I pledged myself to the cause,” Barend says. “Your plan of action was the best strategy to win back our country from the government. I had no hidden agenda.”

I’m not convinced, and he knows it. “If you have something to say, then say it,” Barend demands.

“Are you Governor Roth’s mole?” I ask point-blank.

Barend scoffs, then looks over to Emery, who sits in the middle of the plane. She’s been writing in her notebook the entire flight, softly mouthing words like she’s running through a speech. There’s an olive-colored tinge to her face from motion sickness—a vomit bag rests on the seat beside her. Pawel’s been an excellent aide to our leader, plying her with ginger tea and crackers. I’m sure he’s had practice from taking care of Ellie when she was sick. I did the same for Mira.

Is Barend trying to signal Emery for help? If so, she’s not giving any. She watches our squabbling with the air of a schoolmaster letting her students learn a lesson for themselves.

“Don’t look to Emery,” I say to Barend. “Look at me.”

Roth said similar words to me when he raided our house in Trinity Heights. He thought he could root out liars too.

The bitter taste of arrogance and paranoia fills my mouth. I want to spit it out, but instead I double down and glare a challenge at Barend.

He squares his broad shoulders at me.

“I did my duty to guard and protect you on your mission, but I couldn’t save you from your youthful inexperience. Your hotheaded actions have put the Common itself in danger, along with everyone who has given up everything we care about in order to follow you.” There’s a fervor in his eyes that I can only believe to be genuine—passion is a hard emotion to fake. But I can’t tell what his strength of feeling is toward. His rebuke of my methods, the justness of our cause . . . Ciro?

All at once the plane drops twenty feet in the air, sending Barend and I flying against the walls. When we gather ourselves together again, Barend has sealed up all his vulnerabilities. He’s a hardened soldier once more.

“We’re going back to Dallas too soon,” he insists. “We still don’t have the numbers on our side for this assault.”

Whoever our betrayer is—and I’m still not ruling Barend out completely—we can use the invasion against them.

“In case you didn’t notice, half the Texas Guard is off occupying faraway states. The Common needs to use that to our advantage—we need to move fast before Roth has the entire country behind him,” I say, justifying myself to Barend. And to Emery and Pawel, who are listening closely. “This is the time to strike. Dallas has never been weaker.”

Roth has overreached. Let’s make him pay for his blind ambition.

I turn from Barend and make my way down the narrow aisle to the back of the plane, using the headrests for support. The seat belt sign flashes in warning, but that means nothing—it’s been on the whole flight. Another consequence of climate change: roller-coaster air travel. Increased carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere mean severe air turbulence is the norm.