Page 133 of The Art of Exiley

Georgie sits a little straighter, and Rafe nods. Then, to my surprise, he sticks out his hand to her. When she tentatively shakes it, he says earnestly, “I don’t doubt your loyalty. I know we could never have rescued Hypatia without your assistance, and I am forever in your debt.”

Georgie’s cheeks flush pink, and I swallow as something inside me turns to mush.

Once I’m sure my guts are again fully solid, I say to Rafe, “We need help. Who do you trust absolutely?”

“My brothers. I’ll contact Alex, but he’s in Avant. We need people at Genesis.”

“I trust Master Loew,” I say.

“Well, I do not,” Rafe responds decisively.

“What about Kaylie?” I try.

“Yes,” he says. “And Hypatia, Simon, and Mbali.”

The three of us talk through the details of the plan. In addition to somehow warning the Guard without tipping off the spy, Rafe will figure out how to best protect the mists. Georgie is going to get the Artisans to make and distribute protective masks, just in case. Look at them collaborating so nicely. And Rafe hasn’t sneered even once.

Sheesh, my bar is set so low. When did I start congratulating boys for basic human decency? But he does deserve a pat on the back. Perhaps on the butt.

Soon we say our goodbyes, and this time there’s no need for tears. I’ll be seeing my friends again soon.

“Be careful, Ada!” Georgie begs.

Rafe says nothing.

They don’t think I can do it. But I don’t have a choice. They’re preparing for an invasion. One that’s all my fault. But I’m going to stop it. And I’m going to help the Families see a better way.

My slept-in birthday outfit won’t do. I need to dress for speed and cold. I change into a sports bra and turtleneck, and I layer a pair of leggings under the jeans I wore for farm work on the island. I’m thankful I have Rafe’s leather jacket, which is sturdy enough to protect from the wind of what is looking to be a treacherous ride. There’s a leftover bag of homemade trail mix (thoughtfully prepared by Sal) in the pocket. Perfect. Who knows the next time I’ll have a chance to eat. I don’t have the time to redo my hair, so I leave the slightly mussed braided crown with the pretty ivy running through it. I sling the hoverboard—camouflaged in my snowboarding bag—over my shoulder and take a deep breath.

What am I even doing? This is a terrible idea. I am the last person to be able to pull this off. Even Georgie and Rafe don’t think I can do it.

I push aside all my fears and inadequacies. If fixing my mistakes means being irresponsible and dumb, then that’s what it takes.

I don’t want to have to explain where I’m going, so I decide to sneak out through the kitchen.

“Ada?”

My plan to avoid my family has apparently failed as my mom is leaning against the counter eating leftover birthday cake. It’s odd that she’s not in her work clothes yet, and it’s even more odd that she’s voluntarily eating something that contains both butter and sugar.

“Where are you going?”

Well, I can’t just tell her, can I? But I’m all out of lies today.

“I’m going back. To Genesis.”

“You weren’t going to say goodbye?”

I had wanted to say goodbye, but I’d been worried that facing my family would make me change my mind. I’m still not sure I won’t change my mind, considering my conviction is about as stable as a soap bubble.

My mom abandons her cake and strides over to me, wraps me in a hug. “Good,” she says. “It’s better for you there.”

Her hug is warm, but it doesn’t feel nice that she’s so eager to be rid of me again.

“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” she continues. “I would much rather have you close. I missed you so much while you were gone.”

Oh. I squeeze her tighter.

“I kept you out of everything for as long as I could, but if you have to be involved, it’s safer for you there than here.”

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