She pinned me with a look that very clearly said, Quiet, please.

Zu tugged the other glove off her hand and spread all ten fingers out along either side of the appliance. After a moment, I saw her shut her dark eyes.

The metal piping that served as the toaster's innards heated to a glowing red. A long black cord dangled near her feet, unplugged. The cheap little thing only lasted another minute before its insides started to melt together. I made her put it down at the first sign of smoke.

See? she seemed to be saying. Get it?

"But you can't do that to me," I said, reaching for her hand again. "You don't have to worry about hurting me, because you never could."

I know how it feels, is what I really should have been saying. I know what it's like to be scared of what you can barely control.

I had forced myself to stop thinking about what I had done to that undercover PSF. I didn't let myself wonder if I could do it again, let alone test it out. But how, I wondered, were either of us ever going to learn to control ourselves if we couldn't practice? If we couldn't stretch and test boundaries?

"Let's see if we can find something useful," I said, slipping my fingers around hers again. I waited until I felt her hand close against mine before leading her back down the aisle. "What do you think-"

I'm not even sure what I was about to ask her, but she wasn't paying attention to me. Zu stopped so suddenly and gripped my hand so damn hard, that I stumbled back a few steps. My eyes followed the line of her outstretched arm to the upended clothing and shoe racks.

More specifically, to the lone hot pink dress dangling from an otherwise empty rack.

Zu took off at a run, blitzing down the aisles of extension cords and buckets. I tried to keep up with her, but it was like the wind had caught her heels and was propelling her forward. She stopped just short of the rack. I watched, fascinated, as one of her hands reached out to stroke the fabric, only to pull back at the last second.

"Beautiful," I told her. The dress itself flared out at the waist, with a big ribbon bow at the place where the sleeveless top met the pink and white striped skirt. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to pull it down, hug it to her chest, and press her face against the satiny fabric.

I could think of about a thousand things I missed while I was at Thurmond, but dresses were not on that list. My dad's favorite story to tell strangers and indulgent relatives was the day he and Mom tried to button me up into a blue one for his birthday party when I was three. Because the buttons were so small and impossible for me to reach, I shredded the fabric by hand, bit by gauzy bit. I spent the rest of the party proudly parading around in Batman underwear.

"Are you going to try it on?" I asked.

She looked back up at me and shook her head. Her hands dropped from where they were hovering over the plastic hanger's shoulders, and it took me a moment to recognize what was happening.

Zu thought she didn't deserve it. She thought it was too nice, too new, too pretty. I felt a sweltering hate rise in me, but I didn't know where to direct it. Her parents, for sending her away? Her camp? The PSFs?

I pulled the dress off the silver rack with one hand and took Zu's arm in the other. I knew she was looking at me again, her dark eyes wide with confusion, but instead of explaining-instead of trying to force her to understand the words I wanted to say-I led her over to the dressing rooms in the center of the clothing section, thrust the dress into her hands, and told her to try it on.

It was like tugging a boat in to dock on a thin line. The first few times I handed it to her, she would put it down and I'd have to pick it back up again. I don't know if her desire finally won out, or if I'd managed to exhaust even her wariness, but by the time she appeared, peeking out from around her dressing room's door, I was so relieved I almost cried.

"You look amazing." I turned her back around, so she could see herself in the room's tall mirror. When I finally coaxed her to look, I felt her shoulders jerk under my hands-saw her eyes go huge and bright, only to droop again a moment later. Her fingers began to pluck at the fabric. She was shaking her head, as if to say, No, no I can't.

"Why not?" I asked, turning her so she was looking at me. "You like it, right?"

She didn't look up, but I saw her nod.

"Then what's the problem?" At that, I caught her sneak another look at herself in the corner of the mirror. Her hands were smoothing the fabric of the skirt, and she didn't seem aware of it in the slightest.

"That's right," I said. "There is no problem. Let's see what else we can find."

After, she wanted to find something for me. Unsurprisingly, the adult section had been decimated by looters; my choices seemed limited to hunting gear and industrial jumpsuits. After several patient explanations about why I didn't need the silky cornflower blue nightgown or the skirt with daisies on it, she-with a look of total and complete exasperation-accepted that I was only ever going to try on jeans and plain T-shirts.

And then she pointed to the bra rack, and a part of me wanted to crawl under the discarded piles of kids' pajamas and die. The letters and numbers might as well have been in Chinese for how much sense I could make of them, and I half expected Zu to start laughing when the first touch of frustrated tears welled up in my eyes.

There were not many times I'd stop and think, I wish Mom were here. I understood now, at least, that what I had done to her I could never fix. She would never look at me again and recognize me, and I would never be able to think of anything other than the look in her eyes when she saw me that morning. It was strange how my feelings about her seemed to change by the minute; that one moment I could remember what it felt like for her to brush my hair, and the next, be furious that she had abandoned me. That she hadn't taught me how to live in my own skin and be a girl, like she was supposed to.

But whose fault was that, really?

Zu's lips puckered in thought, her eyebrows knitting together as she surveyed the Everest of undergarments in front of us. She began to pluck one of every size, tossing them back toward me until both of us were laughing ourselves silly for no real reason at all.

Eventually, I found what I thought might have been the right fit for me. It was hard to tell; they had all been so damn uncomfortable with their wires and pinching straps. While I changed out of my dress, Zu happily pulled together an outfit for herself that looked like something out of a store catalog-the pink dress, white leggings beneath it, and a jean jacket that was one or two sizes too big for her. The rest of the things she found were stuffed into a flower patterned backpack I pulled down off a display for her. Now that she had found her own things, she wanted to go the whole hog and pick out things for the boys, too.

When I found her a new pair of tennis shoes with rosy laces, she actually wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me, like she could squeeze the thanks into me. And while Zu was not especially impressed by the pair of short black boots I found for myself in the men's section, she didn't try to force any of the ribbon flats or towering high heels on me.

Zu was in the process of neatly folding a button-down shirt she had chosen for Chubs when I remembered something.

"I'll be right back," I told her. "Wait right here, okay?"

It took me a few minutes to find the aisle again. Liam and I had walked past it so quickly as we made our way toward the back of the store, I wasn't altogether sure that I hadn't imagined seeing them. But there they were, just above the cleaning supplies-a pair of bright pink rubber gloves dangling amid a sea of traditional yellow ones.

"Hey, Zu," I called as I made my way back to her. I dangled them out in front of me and waited for her to turn around. When she did, her mouth actually fell open. She was so dazzled by her new gloves that she walked with her hands stretched out in front of her-the way a princess examining the collection of fine jewelry around her fingers and wrists would. I watched her curtsy and twirl in her new dress as we lapped the store, all the while her feet dancing over the evidence of what had happened at the checkout lanes. Watching her, feeling the exhilaration swelling in my chest, I couldn't say I was all that aware of the broken glass and flickering monitor displays, either. We turned down the dimly lit corridor of cosmetics, and I could barely keep the grin off my face.

Liam found us there a short while later, just as Zu was tying off the braid she'd woven in my hair with a glittery hair tie. I sat on the tile and she sat on the shelf behind me like some fairy queen. "Magnificent!" I told her, when she held a broken mirror out in front of my face. "You are incredible."

And my reward for that was the feeling of her arm's birdlike bones twining around my neck. I twisted around so that I was facing her, because I wanted her to see my face-I wanted her to see how serious, how sincerely I meant it when I repeated myself. "You are incredible."

"You two have been busy, I see."

Liam leaned against the aisle's endcap, eyebrows raised. Zu bounded toward him, scooping up the shirts and socks she'd picked for him.

"Thank you-oh God, Chubs is going to piss his pants when he sees this!" His hand came down to rest on top of her head. "Jeez, I leave you two alone for a little while and you clean out the joint. Good job."

I pushed myself up off the floor, helping them gather up the clothes and supplies we'd managed to scrounge up. That done, we started our slow, reluctant shuffle back to the others. All three of us seemed to be aware that once we left that peaceful moment, it would be behind us forever.

Zu had only just darted out a few steps ahead of us when Liam turned to me and said, "Thanks for doing this. I'm glad you got what I meant." He gave my braid a little playful tug. "I just wanted to ask them a few more questions."

"And you didn't want"-I nodded toward Zu-"to hear?"

He looked down at his feet, and when he looked back up, his ears were pink. "Yeah, but also...you were kind of distracting them."

"What? I'm sorry I threatened them or whatever, but-"

"No-distracting them," Liam repeated. "With your...face."

"Oh." I recovered quickly. "Did you get anything useful out of them?"

"The names of a few of the friendlier tribes, a few cities under lockdown for insurrection-stuff like that. I just wanted to get a sense of what was happening in Virginia."

"I meant about the Slip Kid," I said, maybe a little too eagerly.

"Nothing we didn't have before. Apparently everyone takes some sacred oath not to reveal more information than that. Totally ridiculous."

"They really wouldn't give you any more information?" I said.

Liam looked down at the ground. "Greg made us an offer-a trade-but we turned him down."

"What did he want?" What was so valuable that they wouldn't trade it for the one thing that would reunite them with their families? Black Betty?

"Doesn't matter," Liam said, and there was finality in his voice. "If those numbnuts managed, I'm sure we can find East River ourselves. Eventually."

"Yeah," I said, with a light laugh. "True."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him hoist the pile of clothes onto his shoulder, his gaze never leaving where Zu was hopping and skipping through the field of cans and old magazines. I glanced down at a blond movie star's face as we passed it, my eyes falling over the words SHE FINALLY TELLS ALL printed under her face.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he said. "What's up?"

"Why are you looking for the Slip Kid?" I asked. I felt his eyes on me, and I knew what explanation was coming. "I mean, besides wanting to help Chubs and Zu get there, and trying to deliver Jack's letter. Is it because you want to go home, or...?"

"Any reason in particular you're asking?" His voice was even. Testing.

"The questions you were asking them about the camp," I explained. "It just seemed like you were trying to figure something out."

Liam didn't reply for a long while, not until the tents they'd set up for the night were in sight. Even then, it wasn't an answer. "Why do you want to find the Slip Kid?"

"Because I want to be able to see my grandmother." Because I need to understand how to control my abilities before they destroy everyone I care about. "But you didn't answer my question."

Zu dashed through our tent flap, and the lantern in the tent lit up Chubs's delighted face. When she handed his new things over, he folded her into an enormous hug, lifting her off her feet with the force of it.

"It's...the same as you," he said. "I just want to get home."

"Where's that?"

"See, that's the funny thing," he said. "It used to be North Carolina, but I'm not so sure anymore."

We stood staring at each other for a moment, nearly toe to toe, and when he lifted the flap of the tent for me, I couldn't help but wonder if he had picked up on my half-truth as easily as I had picked up on his.

SIXTEEN.

IT WAS AN HOUR, MAYBE MORE, before liam's breathing evened out and he began to snore. He slept flat on his back, his hands resting against the soft flannel of his shirt. His face, which earlier had seemed marked by old, bruising shadows, looked young again. He might have been able to pass as a twenty-year-old with his facial scruff and solid build, but he didn't fool anyone while tucked away in sleep.

His face was turned toward Zu, who slept between us under a mountain of blankets and was currently the only thing that was keeping me from inching closer to him; from slipping my hand under his bigger one and learning the contents of his dreams.

But the distance between us was there for a reason. Imagining a future in which I didn't exist, in which I had unwittingly erased myself from his memories, kept my hands pinned under my legs and my mind, for once, in check.

When I heard Greg and his pals stir in their tents next to ours, I finally gave up all pretense of sleep. Their voices began as a low murmur indistinguishable from one another, and grew louder as the minutes ticked by. Finally, they turned their lantern on to the lowest setting, just enough to be visible through our own green tent's shell.

I slipped out the other side of the tent, careful to keep my footsteps soft against the concrete. Their whispers grew in volume and urgency the closer I came.

"-them," Greg mumbled. "We don't owe them anything."

My hands clenched at my side, all of the anxiety and distrust that had been swelling up inside of me over the past few hours coming to a head. For a single second, I wished that I had brought my backpack inside the store with me. The panic button was there, waiting to be used if the situation blew up fast and ugly. Stupid Ruby, I thought. Stupid.

I wasn't worried about taking care of Greg and his friends. Even with their guns, we still had a chance. But if they tried to pull something while we were asleep, or if they called in reinforcements- My feet stopped mid-stride.

Chubs had beaten me to guard duty.

He sat facing the tents, his long, spidery legs crossed in front of him, and Zu's workbook in his lap. He was leaning toward the others' tents, concentrating so hard on picking up their conversation that he missed my approach and nearly jumped out of his skin when I appeared.

"Zu?" He squinted in my direction.

"Zu?" I whispered back. "Really?" I mean, really?

I took Zu's workbook and pencil out of his hands and flipped the page without looking at whatever he had been writing.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I wrote, showing it to him. He rolled his eyes and refused to respond when I tried to put the pencil back in his hand.

DO YOU THINK THEY'RE GOING TO TRY SOMETHING?

After a moment, he sighed and finally nodded.

ME TOO, I scribbled. COME WITH ME?

By the way his shoulders slumped, Chubs seemed to think he didn't have much of a choice. He stood quickly and quietly, wiping his palms against the front of his khaki pants.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Chubs said when we were out of earshot. The tents were in our line of sight, but we weren't in theirs. "About them."

"Do you think they're going to try to rob us?"

"I think they're going to try to take Betty, actually."

There was a long pause; I felt Chubs's eyes slide over to me, but my own were fixed on the tents, watching for trouble.

"You should go back to sleep." There was a gruff edge to his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest. But there was also something about the way he said it that made me wonder if he was waiting to see what I would reply. "What are you even doing up?"

"Same as you, I guess," I said. "Making sure no one gets brutally mugged, beaten, or murdered in their sleep. Watching to see if those kids are the assholes I think they are."

Chubs snorted at that, rubbing his hand over his forehead. It took some time in silence, but I felt the air between us ease from a guarded hostility to something that felt to me like acceptance. His shoulders were no longer bunched up with tension, and when he tilted his head toward me, I saw it for the subtle invitation it was. I took a step closer.

"It was bad enough he had to come back here," Chubs mumbled, more to himself than to me. "God..."

"Liam?" I asked. "This is where he and his friend were captured, right?"

Chubs nodded. "He's never told me the whole story, but I think what happened was that he and Felipe were traveling and ran into a tribe of Blues. Instead of recruiting them like Lee hoped, the tribe beat the hell out of them and stole everything they had-food, packs, family pictures, you name it. They came here for a few days to regroup, but they were in such bad shape that they couldn't get away when the skip tracers finally showed up."

Something hard settled in my throat.