T H I R T Y - T W O

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Hey, guys! Since this update took way too long, I've added a short recap of previous few chapters:

Six weeks after Arya and Everett started working at the botanical gardens, an announcement is made that the rewards for everyone's performance will be withdrawn because of Arya and Everett's low productivity. The citizens attack Arya and Everett out of anger and the two are beaten brutally until they are rescued and brought to the Wellness Hub under the Foreman's orders. There, while Everett is recovering, Arya talks to the Foreman and starts suspecting that there is something amiss with their failed Chips.

After Everett and Arya are fully recovered, they leave the Wellness Hub and return to their pods. Instead of going to sleep, Arya tells Everett that they need to go somewhere else to talk because she wants to tell Everett about her suspicion that their Chips failing might not have been an accident like they were led to believe.

 Instead of going to sleep, Arya tells Everett that they need to go somewhere else to talk because she wants to tell Everett about her suspicion that their Chips failing might not have been an accident like they were led to believe

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I find Everett waiting for me at the top of the stairs, eyes cast down and forehead creased with worry. When I reach him, he looks up and gives me a weak smile. Moments later, we descend the stairs and stop in front of the door.

Everett turns to me dubiously. "How are we going to keep this door open? We used our bracelets for the pods."

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, realizing that the building's front door opens only with the touch of our bracelets against the screen. I fumble around my coat for a solution, stopping when my fingers come into contact with the water canteen hanging from my belt. "Maybe we could use this. Maybe it'll work just like our pods."

Pulling the door open, I step out and wait for Everett to follow before wedging the small container of water between the door and the jamb. Dread builds in my stomach at the thought of the shrill cry of alarms piercing the air. But when the silence remains, Everett exhales, his shoulders dropping with relief in my peripheral vision.

"Let's go," I say, gesturing for Everett to follow as I head away from the building.

We slip past the signboard in front of the street that says "801-1000" in bold black print. Flanked by golden-yellow globes of light, the empty street makes being clandestine nearly impossible. We try to walk along the road's edge, our arms grazing the violet blooms on the bushes.

"Where are we going?" Everett asks quietly.

"All we know about this place are the pods, the garden, and the Wellness Hub. I just want to go somewhere . . . else."

As Everett and I head down the well-lit streets beyond the Hub in careful silence, I try to keep track of the growing distance between the pods and us. But after what feels like an hour of walking, I find myself distracted by how different the streets are starting to look. Both the streetlamps and the buildings are getting scarcer in number. As the dark, empty spaces expand, so does the lump of apprehension in my throat.

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