"First perimeter’s breached." A staticky voice erupts from the black box strapped to Dad's hip. He silences it with a curse. “Time to go." He tosses me up over his shoulder, walking out of the copse of birches and straight to a low-slung black vehicle with no roof. I spit the rag out of my mouth over Father’s shoulder and stay limp in his hold. The shape of a plan starts to come together but timing is key. Let him think I’ve given in for now. The day we buried her, I promised mom we were going to live free and that’s what the hell I’m going to make happen tonight.
