A/N: Sorry, guys! I know this was way later than usual. I haven't had a lot of time to write lately.


I'm sitting on the couch numbly now, pretending I can't hear the faint whispers of Glen, Clay, and Spencer as they argue in the kitchen. Glen's saying that legally I'm supposed to be with Aiden's family right now, Clay just wants me out before I get them all into trouble, and Spencer thinks I'm too fragile to go anywhere right now. I don't know who's right. I don't know anything anymore.

From what I can tell, they settle on a compromise: Glen will leave tonight to inform Aiden's family of what's happened, then will inform his superiors in Patrol that I'm with his family for the night and then will be staying with Aiden's until I can "adjust", whatever that means. I'll get the day off of school tomorrow to get everything packed, and so will Aiden, to help me move in with him.

Spencer comes back eventually with the reheated mug of hot chocolate and starts to tell me what's going on. I interrupt her. "I heard."

She nods, unsurprised, and then sets the mug down on the table in front of me. I'm not going to drink it. Perhaps she's realized that by now. I probably should, though; my lips are dry and I have to keep licking them. Spencer sits in silence with me as the minutes tick by. At some point, I vaguely register Glen leaving through the front door.

"I'm sorry," she finally tells me. "What you're going through must be so terrible."

I don't reply. Every time I blink I'm left with the image of my mom lying on our living room couch, unmoving.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

I shake my head silently.

"I'm sorry," she says again, and then seems to lapse into her own thoughts for a while. "You might have noticed it's just the three of us," she finally says. "I can't remember anything about my own parents."

"At least they're alive," I whisper. She lets out an audible breath.

"I don't know that they are."

"Then at least you don't have the memory of losing them," I reply. She doesn't have a response to that.

Eventually, she takes me upstairs and shows me to her room, and I borrow a pair of pajamas from her. We share the bed for the night, but I'm so buried deep within myself that I hardly acknowledge her. I lay flat on my back and stare up at the ceiling for what feels like hours, my mind blank. At one point, Spencer's voice drifts to my ears from the other side of the bed as she questions, "Ashley?"

I take a moment to reply. "Yes?"

I can practically feel her hesitation from here. I hear her shift slightly. "How did you know where my house was?"

I blink up at the ceiling and ponder the question. My expression doesn't change and my voice sounds empty when I reply. "I remembered."

I hear her suck in a breath sharply at that, but that's the last time she makes a sound for the rest of the night. At some point I find myself acknowledging that for all her instinctive knowledge about how to comfort me, ultimately, she's still nothing more than a glorified stranger.

That thought saddens me all the more.


Aiden picks me up the next morning and takes me to my house. I don't want to go inside, but the thought of the objects under my bed get me out of his car and to my front door. Patrol has gotten rid of… has taken my mom, and are burying her today. She won't have a funeral, only a grave in the cemetery closest to my house.

I avoid looking at the couch in the living room as I pass it to head to my bedroom. Aiden leaves me alone to pack, and I lock the door to my room to give myself some privacy. Rather than draining me of my motivation to escape Los Angeles, now that I can think somewhat rationally my mom's actions have only increased my drive to find a way out. I won't let myself suffer the same fate she did. I won't quit. I just have to shove down what I feel now and move on. I have the rest of my life to mourn.

I consider the objects hidden under my bed as I pack what I'll need while I'm staying at Aiden's. This house is now property of Aiden's family, which means that once they deem me emotionally suited to do so, I should be free to return to my own room. All the more reason to convince everyone I'm moving past this. But I don't know when I'll be able to get back here. The key to my house will be in Aiden's parents' possession. Without my journal, any dreams I have will go unrecorded, and I'd hoped to use the small book to convince Spencer of the truth. But can I risk taking any of this stuff with me? I may not be able to find a spot to hide it at Aiden's, and I know it'll be safe here. Perhaps it's not worth the risk. After all, I'd really like to have my journal, but recording my dreams isn't necessarily a necessity right now. And there's no guarantee I couldn't convince Spencer without the book. Especially after I got her attention when I mysteriously knew the way to her house yesterday.

My mind made up, I leave my hiding place untouched and finish packing. My plan's been delayed, but I can still do this. Now I just have to find the perfect balance between showing the sadness I feel and appearing to be emotionally stable. If I'm too happy, they'll know I'm putting up a front, and if I let my sadness show too much, they won't let me live in my house again.

I mentally lay it all out in my head. Step One: Figure out Spencer's birthday. Step Two: Act emotionally stable; get the key to my house back. Step Three: Use the calculator to find my escape route. Step Four: Convince Spencer to go with me. Step Five: Get the fuck out of dodge.

And in the meantime, avoid capture by Patrol, avoid pissing off Sloan, and avoid making Aiden suspicious despite the fact that we're now living under the same roof.

No problem.


Mrs. Dennison shows me to my room when Aiden and I arrive with a giant bag filled with my clothes in tow. Aiden lives with his mother and father, his eleven-year-old brother, Justin, his pregnant twenty-year-old sister, Maribel, and her twenty-year-old Mate, Nathan. Aiden's already told me that he's planned on moving into his brother's room to give me some space, so I'll be getting my own room in the form of Aiden's old bedroom. It's a relief; Nathan and Maribel share a room so I'd assumed Aiden and I would be forced to do so as well.

With my privacy secured for however long I'm staying here, the biggest discomfort is the looks I get from his family each time I leave my new room. My entire first day feels like a suffocating mixture of "I'm sorry for your loss"es, sympathetic looks, and well-meaning arm-touches or pats on the shoulder. I just want to be left alone, and thankfully when I share this with Aiden, he takes it upon himself to make sure his family backs off. Only Maribel visits me, then, as she's always had a way with words and a soft, warm personality. We talk about the baby forming inside her and I get the sense that Nathan wouldn't have been her first choice of Mate, but that she's grown to appreciate him in her own way. It helps, knowing that there are people here who still make do as best as they can and that can function as a healthy family and bring a child into the world. It gives me hope that when I'm gone, Aiden will be able to have that with someone else who at the very least appreciates him. But maybe I'm too idealistic. Even the happiest of young couples was still ultimately forced to be together, after all.

I start back at school the following day, accept the practically requisite apologies and condolences from the classmates who are familiar enough with me to offer them, and go through my day almost robotically until I reach lunchtime. Spencer returns to my table, then, and sits down across from me with a small, sympathetic smile. "Hey."

"You can stop that," I tell her immediately, and her smile falls slightly. "I've gotten about two-dozen of those today and even more yesterday. I'm up to my ears in apologies, too. No idea how everyone knows about what happened, either."

"Oh," she seems embarrassed, and nods slightly. "I'm sorry."

I look up at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Ugh, sorry." She winces. "Sorry!" She winces again and shakes her head. "I'll just stop talking."

"Wise choice," I agree, one corner of my mouth tilting upwards slightly. She smiles back, wider than mine, like she's happy to see me even attempt a smile. I figure out now's as good a time as any to pop the question, so to speak. "Spencer," I ask, trying to sound innocent, "Do you know when your birthday is?"

Her eyes dart to the nearest Patrol guard and her smile fades. She looks a little confused. "Of course not; how would I?"

I look down, trying to hide my disappointment. I can't tell if she's lying for the guards' benefit or if she's telling the truth. There's no more I can say here, though. It was dumb to ask.

"Why?" she adds, clearly still confused. I look her directly in the eyes, hoping she can see the hidden meaning in my response.

"I'd really like to know," I tell her. Her eyebrows furrow and she looks away from me, silently eating her food. I can tell she's uncomfortable. "Do you think-?" I start to ask, hoping to convince her to meet me after school just one more time, but she cuts me off.

"I really don't know it." She shrugs, shaking her head. "Could be today, for all I know. No one ever told me."

I nod my understanding calmly. Inwardly, I'm panicking. Nice going, Dad; she doesn't remember her birthday. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? "So… not even the year?"

"The years are different now," Spencer reminds me. "I mean, I'm either 17 or 18, aren't I? But that doesn't tell me anything about what the years used to be like."

I nod again. I know from my own birth certificate what the years used to be like. I'm 18. So I've got a 50/50 chance of being right about Spencer's birth year. But there's no way I could guess the month and day correctly, and I don't know how that calculator works. Maybe I only get one guess. It'd be risky enough just guessing the year. I should be certain about the exact date before I try. But unless Spencer has a birth certificate hidden around her house, I don't know how to find that date, and while Glen's nice for a Patrol guard, there's no way in hell I'm breaking into the house of someone who's in Patrol to look for a document that's either hidden in an unknown location or very well may not even exist. I'm completely stuck now, unless I can think of another place where I'll find Spencer's birth certificate.

As Spencer and I eat in silence, my brain works overtime and I try to think of every option I can. A doctor? No, doctors are just as brainwashed as teachers but they still aren't given birth dates. I need to go higher up; think of someone even more loyal to the Leaders. Teachers, no. Patrol grunts won't know anything either; they just do what they're told. But the officers…

I'm sure I look intrigued as it finally clicks, and I hide a vaguely incredulous smile as I realize what I'm going to have to do.

I know where I can find the document that will tell me Spencer's birth date.