Perfectly Scarred

This Is Not What It Seems

At night, When everybody has finally gone to bed, or to work, Lisa comes for me in the cabin. Niki raises her eyebrows at me suggestively, and I laugh as I leave.

It's not what she thinks it is.

Lisa and I desperately need to talk. Even though I understand why she's doing it, Chi constantly trying to be near Lisa and fussing around her has prevented us from being able to talk. And then I had to wait for her to finish her shift, and when she finally did there was a group dinner, where Chi sat between us, thinking she was bringing us all together when, really, Lisa sat by stiffly, giving one-word answers, and I was too tired to speak.

It's been an exhausting two weeks, a terrifying twenty-four hours, and now that I have finally stopped, and the adrenaline has worn off, I am sore and stiff, my head aches, and I feel like I could sleep forever.

Lisa takes me to the kitchen, the farthest room from everybody's sleeping quarters, and closes the door. We sit at the kitchen table.

"Did you hear anything from Jio about my granddad?"
It is the tenth time, at least, that I've asked her and Jennie today, though at one point Jennie fixed me with a dangerous look and said, "Park, I like you, but I will swat you like a fly."

"Yes. Just a few minutes ago. Your parents went to see him today. He's in a holding cell; they're treating him well. They're questioning him and holding him for another twenty-four hours on suspicion of aiding the Failure. They're trying to say he's been giving his employees privileges."
I'm both relieved and not, at the same time. He hasn't been charged, or hurt. Yet.
"They have no proof against him, or they would have charged him by now. They're just holding him to smoke you out."

I wince.

"Sorry." She backtracks. "I didn't mean to use that expression. But on the positive side, the fact that they're holding on to him means he knows you're still alive."

"You're sure?"

"Certain. He's not stupid."

I smile. "No, he's not."

"So ... I've been formulating a plan to get us out of this mess."

"What mess?"

She makes a general gesture, indicating the room around us, the factory.

"You want to leave Vigor?" I ask, surprised.

"You don't?"

Would it be stupid to say that I like it here? That for the first time in weeks I feel safe? Surrounded by steel, metal, enormous structures, card keys to get through doors, heightened security, all to keep the outsiders from getting in. I don't feel locked inside, I feel protected, as if for the first time it's me who is being guarded.

"I feel safe here," I admit. "And you've found your mother, and your sister—did you even know you had a sister? Why would you want to give up being with them?"

"She's not really my sister. She is adopted by mom. And yes, I understand, Celestine, I do. But this place isn't real life. This isn't freedom. Poor Ella is six years old and hasn't been outside of these walls since the day she arrived. She has no friends her age, probably has never met anyone her own age. Bahee doesn't want us to fight for freedom. If he hears us speak about it, he tells us to stop, so nothing around here is ever going to change."

"But I got ten hours of sleep last night," I whine, and she laughs gently.

"I felt the same for about a day, but you've just arrived. You'll see."