I handed her the sweater. She stroked it like a kitten.

"Soft." She held it to her cheek.

"It's yours."

"Really? You mean it, really?"

I nodded.

"Oh, thank you so much." She slipped it on.

"What do you think?" I asked.

She answered by putting her right fist over her heart and cupping it with her other hand. She slapped her hands together, mimicking a beating heart.

"That means I love it," she said. "See, it sounds like a heart. You do it."

She picked up my hands and made me imitate her. I felt silly.

"More like a heartbeat, like this," she said. "It's better if you push your fist into your other hand." She forced my hands to mark the thump-thump rhythm.

"It's okay, I got it." I stopped and waved her hands away. "What's your name?"

"Sara."

My pulse quickened. Helena let out a gasp only I could hear.

"How long have you lived here?" I asked.

"Almost a year."

"Where are the others?"

"They're out doing brush clearance today." She sat on the edge of the bed.

"But not you?"

She pointed to her heart. "Bad valve."

I didn't know what to say, other than to dig up some standard apology.

" 'S'okay. Doesn't hurt, and it gets me out of the worst work." She hugged herself in the sweater. "Was this yours?"

I shook my head. "A friend's. It looks good on you. I'm sure she'd be happy you got it."

She beamed and caressed the sleeves. "It feels so good." She patted the bed. The bed sagged as I sat next to her. The blanket felt rough and smelled moldy.

"When I came in, you were hiding. Why?" I asked.

She shrugged. "You never know around here." She looked down.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a Supertruffle. I offered it to her. She raised her brows.

"Go ahead." I moved it closer to her.

She took it with both hands and bit into it. I wondered when her last meal had been.

"Sara, I heard you might have met a girl named Emma? She looked like this." I showed her the picture on my phone. "Do you remember her?"

Her small fingers took the phone from me and examined it. "She came in here once as a volunteer, like six months ago. She did my hair. It was a beauty clinic."

She gave me back the phone.

"I saw her again, a couple of weeks later. My wrist got broken-don't ask-and I had to go get a scan. I saw Emma on the street, but it was weird."

"Why?"

"She didn't recognize me. I called her name, 'Emma!' She looked right at me but didn't remember me. She did look a little different, prettier, but I knew it was her. She had on the same jewelry. I guess she was embarrassed. Didn't want to be seen with me." She picked at the sweater. "And after we'd spent that nice day together."

I wanted so much to tell Sara she was wrong. That it wasn't the real Emma, but some Ender renter.

"Where were you, when you saw her?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know. Somewhere not far, here in Beverly Hills."

I put my phone away. "I'm sorry." I said that for Helena's benefit. I wished I could have come up with more information.

"It's okay," Sara said. She moved closer to me on the bed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Of course. You've got a beautiful face. Why?"

"We found out last week there's going to be a special program. They're going to take some of us and make us over and give us important jobs. We'll be able to earn money. They've gotta pick me. I really, really want to get out. I've been here forever."

"When? When is this happening?"

"Don't know. They said we were getting showers tomorrow. We usually only get them on Sunday."

A look of fear shaded her face. Her eyes focused on something behind me as she stood. I turned around and saw a mean-looking Ender at the door. She might have been elegant once, but now she wore a stern gray suit and a ZipTaser on her hip.

"What are you doing here?" She came into the room.

I stood and pointed to the bags. "I brought donations."

Her badge read "Mrs. Beatty, Head of Security."

"All donations go through the headmistress. You can't just waltz around, tossing out gifts like beads at Mardi Gras." She picked up both bags. "It would only cause jealousy and fights, and we certainly don't need any more of that."

I was foolishly hoping she wouldn't notice. But the sweater that Sara had on wasn't regulation gray or black; it was noticeably pink. Naturally, it caught Beatty's eye.

Sara crossed her arms over it in a futile attempt to hide it.

"Take it off," Beatty said. "Now."

"It's mine, she gave it to me."

"That's true." I stepped in front of her. "I did."

Don't get involved, Callie, Helena urged me.

"You'll hand it over right now." Beatty dropped the shopping bags and moved around me.

She pulled it over Sara's head and yanked it off.

"You can't take it, it's mine." Tears flowed from her red eyes. "It's the first thing anyone's given me since forever."

Don't stay, Callie, just get out of there.

"The headmistress does any and all distribution." Beatty nodded at me. "Let's you and I go see her."

No! Whatever you do, don't go there.

Helena's voice made my body tense. Beatty gestured with her head for me to go first. She cast a stern look at Sara, as if she would deal with her later, when I was no longer a witness. I walked to the door and stopped. I turned in the doorway and got one last glimpse of Sara's fragile little body. Bits of pink fuzz stuck to her white blouse, a sad reminder of what might have been.

There was nothing I could do for her.

Beatty and I walked down the hall. Beatty wore heels, not spiky ones, but chunky ones that made a certain clopping sound. I had a strange notion to run back and punch Sara in the face. If she had a black eye or a broken nose, then maybe the body bank people wouldn't pick her.

It was sick that it had come to that. As we left the building and climbed down the steps, I couldn't get Sara's face out of my mind. She was just a younger version of me, the me I had been for the last year. A desperate, starving orphan, eager for scraps, at the mercy of a system that cared less for unclaimed minors than for stray dogs.

When we came to the entrance to the main building, Helena spoke to me.

Go to the left. Just walk out like you own the place.

I did what she said. Beatty's clopping stopped.

"Miss. The office of the headmistress is this way." She pointed to the right. Her voice was so sharp, it hurt my ears.

"I know. But I'm not feeling well. I'm leaving."

"We have a doctor here. A good one. I'll call him."

"No thank you."

Beatty chuffed, her lips turning down into a sneer. But I kept walking to the main gate, holding my head high, never looking back. I was learning the posture of the entitled.

When I reached the gate, the guard looked at me from inside his little cage. I stared at the gate, expecting it to open. It didn't.

The phone rang and he answered it. It was all old technology there.

He stared at me and then hung up. He motioned for me to approach. I stepped closer to the mesh grating.

"Have a nice day," he said. "See you again."

The gate opened and it took all my will not to run through it. When it closed behind me, my breathing resumed and I walked across the street. I turned back and looked at the compound. The dormitory rose higher than the wall, and something there caught my eye.

Sara was in one of the windows, looking very small, waving at me. I swallowed whatever had gathered in my throat.

Now you see how bad it is in there. Now you know.

"It's even worse, didn't you hear her?" I said to Helena. "The body bank's going to cherry-pick the prettiest kids and start using them. We have to stop this."

Finally. You get it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

I was so glad to be out of that horrible place. I wondered if Helena had ever expected Sara to have any clues about Emma's death, or whether that was just a lie to get me into an institution.

Before I could think any more about it, my cell phone rang. I got into my car and locked the doors. It was Madison. She'd left a message for me to come over and pick up the stuff I'd left there yesterday. Helena gave me the okay to stop by, as long as I was quick. It wasn't far, and I arrived in ten minutes.

I had barely stepped onto Madison's porch when she pulled the door open.

She stared blankly. "Do I know you?"

Uh-oh. Was this a different Ender inside? "Of course you know me. Pinky friends, remember?" I waved my little finger.

She folded her arms. "Well, you could have fooled me. I thought you were the one who disappeared in a puff of smoke last night."

"I'm so sorry. Really."

"I was imagining all kinds of horrible things that involved accidents and blood and humongous fines for damaging the rental body."

"It was an emergency."

"I figured. A Blake emergency. Come on in."

I followed her into the house.

"I had to join him at an awards ceremony for his grandfather. It all happened pretty fast." I looked around the room and didn't see my overnight bag.