Deeps was digging into the jelly beans, picking out green ones. Dad pulled out a seat next to him. "The estimated construction time is twelve man hours," he said, "so we'd better get started or you'll both still be here Christmas Day."

It was only a couple days away, and Hawkins hadn't said a word about it. "I wouldn't mind that, Dad."

"Neither would I, Angel Pie." Then turning to Deeps, Dad said, "I'm warning you, do exactly what this guy tells you." He pointed to Gerard. "And don't eat too many of those candies or you'll find yourself at the grocery store."

Dad joking with Deeps? The four of us building a gingerbread house? This was bizarre with a capital B.

"Honey, would you go upstairs and get some of that Christmas music your mom liked from the storage room? Gerard couldn't find it."

I glanced at Gerard, who responded with a big shrug. Gerard couldn't find it? He'd labeled and indexed every box in that room, and did an annual inventory. "Sure," I said.

Gerard handed me his key.

The storage room was upstairs, attached to the laundry. Light streamed through the skylight over the washer and dryer. The door to the storage room unlocked easily, and I left it open as I went in so I could find the string for the overhead light.

The light came on, just as I heard the door close behind me. "Gerard?"

"No, it's me."

"Yates?" I couldn't move, couldn't turn around. Why is he here?

"Avie." His hand lit on my arm, and I pulled away, but his fingers caught the tips of mine. I jerked like they'd been singed and cupped both my hands over my heart.

"Avie, please look at me."

I focused on the precisely labeled boxes on the shelves by my knees, trying to catch my breath. Yates took a step closer and I moved out of reach. Now I was trapped.

"What are you doing here?" My voice was barely a whisper.

His breath was warm on the back of my neck. "I had to see you."

The yearning in his voice made me feel like my heart could snap in two. "I don't understand. You hate me."

Yates sighed. "It's not real, Avie. None of it's real."

"What's not real?"

"I don't hate you. I've never hated you."

"But-the things you said about me-"

"You think I didn't know Hawkins Retrieved you, that he forced you to act the way you did? I know you, Avie."

My eyes filled. No you don't.

Yates wrapped his arms around my shoulders and the splint on his injured hand pinched my collarbone. Still, I leaned into him, wanting to believe.

He laid his head on mine. "It was your dad's idea for me to trash you to the media. He thought it would make Hawkins believe you and I are really over."

We are over. Why don't you see it? "You know I didn't want to leave you in Boise."

"Yeah, I know, and from what I heard, Luke got you out of there just in time."

"The police were right behind us."

"I was glad you were with him. Luke wouldn't let anything happen to you."

My heart gave a twinge. Things had happened, but not the way Yates imagined.

Yates turned me gently until we faced each other. In this light, his eyes were the deep blue of new jeans. I took in the thin white scar in his hairline and the slight dent in his nose left over from the accident on the mountain. We'd survived so much.

He swung his splint away from his body, inviting me closer, then bent his head toward mine. Our lips touched, and I tasted gingerbread and coffee.

"You taste like Christmas," I whispered.

A smile crinkled his eyes, and he drew me in closer, pressing his lips more firmly to mine. "I missed you so much," he said between kisses. "Once Hawkins got his hands on you, I almost couldn't stand it."

His lips traveled from my mouth to my jaw and down my neck as if by kissing all these places he could convince himself I was real. And the way our bodies melded together, it was as if they were trying to erase the time and distance we had been apart.

I gave in to the feelings drawing me to him even as I fought the thoughts spinning in my head.

This is wrong. This is a bad idea. Hawkins will be furious if he finds out.

My hands were on Yates' back, in his hair.

We can't do this. This is insane.

Hold me. Don't let me go.

"Stop. Stop," I whispered, easing out of his arms. "My bodyguard's downstairs. I'm supposed to be looking for Christmas music and he's going to come up here if I don't get down there."

"I know." Yates pointed to a stack of CDs on top of a box. "Don't worry. I won't let you get in trouble."

He slid his hand down my arm until he reached my fingers. I wondered if he could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. "I met with the two reporters," he said. "They had a recording of Maggie's testimony from Salvation."

"Oh my G.o.d, Luke found them."

"Luke handed it over to them? I thought it was you."

Luke's okay. He's okay! Helen's going to be so relieved.

Oh s.h.i.t. My heart thudded as I realized that Jouvert would think Hawkins and I betrayed him. "When are they going to run the story?"

"They're not sure. They're still confirming the allegations Maggie made. What's going on? You seem upset."

I couldn't tell Yates what I'd done. "No, this is great. It's what we prayed for, right, the end of Jouvert and the Paternalists?"

"Yeah, we're finally going to bring them down."

I dropped my eyes to the quote on Yates' shirt, still visible despite his splint. "Armies can be resisted, but not the idea whose time has come. V. Hugo."

How could Yates be so nave, thinking a news article could take down Jouvert and his friends?

Yates wrapped his hand over mine and rested it on his chest. "So I need to tell you that after the story breaks, there will probably be a trial and I'll have to testify about what I witnessed in Salvation."

A gunshot rang in my ears and I saw Samantha Rowley crumple on the marble courthouse steps. Her lawyer's car explode in D.C. traffic.

"But it's incredibly dangerous. Jouvert will target you."

"Just because they let me out of prison, doesn't mean I'm not a target now. I might as well go out fighting."

"Yates-"

"There's a safe house in Tijuana. The plan is to hide you there until we can transport you to Hermosillo and fly you out of Mexico."

"What? When is this supposed to happen?"

"Now. Today. It's all set."

"This is crazy. Does Dad know?"

"He came up with the idea."

"And Deeps is just supposed to go along with this?"

"No, we'll take care of Deeps. He'll sleep right through it."

"You'll all go to prison if you get caught, all three of you."

"Not if Deeps wakes up and finds your dad and Gerard out cold over their cocoa. He'll think you drugged them given your history of taking down bodyguards."

I pulled away, slightly dizzy. Dad and Yates wanted to save me, but if I didn't testify, Jouvert could walk free, and Yates might die.

"There's no need for both of us to put our lives in danger," Yates said.

I shook my head. "You're wrong. You don't know everything I know." Yates hadn't heard the tape where Jouvert boasted to Sparrow about his deal with the Saudis.

"What am I missing?"

"I can't tell you."

"Are you saying you don't trust me?"

"No, of course I trust you. I trust you with my life."

"Then what is it?"

I can't tell you what I know, because then I'd have to tell you what I did.

"Avie, think about it. You'll never get the chance to testify. Jessop Hawkins won't let you near a courtroom. You don't have a choice. You have to get out of the country."

I closed my eyes. If I ran, I might live. But then I'd have to live with everything I'd done. "No, I'm not leaving."

Yates cupped his hands over my shoulders. "It won't be bad. Three hours to the border of Mexico. The priest who runs the safe house is a friend of Father Gabriel's. He'll keep you safe."

"I'm not scared to run. That's not why I said no."

"You sound like you mean it."

"I do."

A faint tapping made me jump. "Avie?" Gerard peeked around the door. "Deeps is asking about you," he said, exchanging glances with Yates. Yates mouthed "no" and shook his head.

Gerard's eyes pinched. I don't understand.

I know. I'm sorry.

Gerard plucked a photo alb.u.m off a shelf and set it on a suitcase. "I'll tell Deeps you're looking through some old photos and will be down soon." His face was filled with dread as he closed the door.

"I'm sorry," I said when Yates and I were alone again. "You guys must have gone to a lot of trouble to arrange the safe house."

Yates shrugged. "We love you."

My heart crumbled, and I wrapped my arms around Yates' neck one last time. "I love you, too."

Our kisses said I'll never forget and I'm sorry. They held lost wishes and unspoken fears. Finally, they couldn't say any more, and we broke apart. Yates stacked the CDs on top of the alb.u.m and handed them to me, and we gazed into each other's faces, trying to find the unbearable words for good-bye.

Then he reached up and drew his thumb down my cheek, his whispery voice giving me shivers. "'Let the world tell us no-'"

And his eyes held mine as we recited the last lines of the poem together. "'Love is the rusted fire escape that shouldn't support our weight, but does.'"

We'd never be together again, possibly never see each other again, but the love we had refused to believe that. We smiled sadly at each other one last time before I walked out the door and locked it behind me.

We didn't have enough time, not nearly enough. I started down the stairs. I couldn't hold back my tears and halfway down I had to stop. You can't lose it. Hold it together.

Yates was ready to go down fighting. Was I? I wasn't even seventeen. But Jouvert was coming after me and Hawkins, and I had to help stop him.

I wiped my face on my sleeve before I walked into the kitchen. Dad and Deeps were propping up two gingerbread walls while Gerard piped icing cement into the seam. "How about you put down that alb.u.m and give us a hand, before this thing collapses?" Dad said.

Hours later, the four of us had piped the last icing detail on the walls and cemented the final green jelly bean to the roof. Deeps helped Gerard load our creation into Big Black so they could drive it over to the hospital the next morning.

Dad took me back inside while the two of them figured out how to secure it in the back. He shut the door to the library and led me across the room before he whispered, "I want you to reconsider our plan. When this story breaks, there could be a violent backlash against the Paternalists, including Jessop Hawkins, and you'll be caught in the middle."

"I know. And I'm grateful, really, I am, that you want to do this for me, but no."

"You're not going to explain your decision?"

I shook my head.