Karan leaned back on the bench she was sitting on and sighed. She had been sighing nonstop for three days and didn't know what to do about it.

The sunlight filtered through the trees painted dappled patterns on the paths of the Forest Park. Above her, the birds sang short, sweet melodies, and all around her people smiled and went about their days, unburdened.

But Karan's heart was heavy. Her body felt a bone-deep drag like the very air she breathed was made of sand. She had always prided herself on being a strong woman, adaptable and equable, even in the most trying of times. But now she had begun to think that her easygoing personality was a failing. She could not protect the ones she loved and she couldn't stand up against the injustices of the world—she could only grin and bear them after the fact.

She felt obscenely useless. She was an adult, shouldn't she be more capable? Shouldn't she know how to protect the people she loved? And yet, the government of this supposed paradise kept tearing those she held most dear out of her arms, and she did nothing.

No, but I tried this time. I tried to help, even though I knew it was too late.

Karan sighed and tilted her head to the clear blue sky. She hoped that her note had reached Nezumi safely, but she wasn't sure what to hope for beyond that.

Nezumi was a mystery. He had burst out of nowhere to save Shion, but he did so because they had forged a bond four years ago. She didn't know his character at all.

It took a really selfless person to attempt to save a stranger, and it took an extremely brave person to attempt to save anyone from the Correctional Facility. Not only was the building highly secure, it was flanked by the Deadlands on all sides. Karan couldn't be sure if Nezumi was willing to take those kinds of risks. She wouldn't blame him if he wasn't.

Shion would take the risk.

Karan fisted her hands in her lap. Shion was the bravest and most selfless person she knew. If he knew that Safu had been captured by the Security Bureau, Shion would do everything in his power to rescue her.

Have I made a terrible mistake?

Shion's last note to her said he was safe and relatively happy, and every mouse that came by the bakery had been brown so far, indicating that everything was going well. In sending the note to Nezumi, had she shattered that peace? Had she condemned her son to imprisonment or death?

Oh, I don't know. I don't know. Karan hung her head. Her helplessness and worry lodged in the back of her throat like a lead ball bearing.

What happened to me? When did I become this weak?

She used to be so fearless. In her youth, Karan had been a spitfire; she spoke loudly and freely and didn't care about what anyone else thought. What mattered was that she had the conviction she was right and she was willing to fight for her beliefs.

But those were the days before the infection, before the Salvation Edict and its restrictions were locked into place.

Could she really blame the quarantine, though? She had made a choice then to stay within the walls of Zone No. 6, where it was safe and her young son would want for nothing. She had known there were healthy men, women, and children who were forced to live outside the quarantine walls because those in power did not want them in their new world. She could have chosen to protest and stay outside the wall.

But she had been scared. She had her child's future to think about.

Nonetheless, Karan had chosen the cage she now found herself in, and after so long in captivity, it felt like the fight had completely gone out of her. She had allowed herself to become so meek and complacent that she did nothing when her son was stolen from her and branded a violent criminal. She sat by and watched as a young girl she had known for twelve years was spirited away in the middle of a public street.

How had she ever agreed to live in such a place as No. 6? From the very beginning the quarantine zone was built on fear and inequality. Those in charge did whatever they wanted because they felt entitled to their power, because they knew that the citizens wouldn't dare voice dissatisfaction, for fear of being banished outside the wall.

No one talked of the dead, and once someone was taken by the Security Bureau, that person was considered as good as dead.

We're just hiding from our responsibility. We're complicit in this city's sins, because we've allowed them to go on for years and years in silence.

Quarantine Zone No. 6 had saved them from infection; that was where its kindness started and that's where it ended as well. The government claimed that the city they had created together was heaven on earth, better than any civilization they had before. But it was all lies. Life had barely changed at all. No one completely starved or was homeless, but the class system was still in place. Hierarchy and threat of violence were still the secret order of the day.

"Miss?"

Karan gasped and looked up.

A small elderly woman stood before her, smiling gently. She wore a gray coat and light blue hat, and her eyes were soft and kind behind the lenses of her round spectacles. Karan felt a faint sense of recognition.

"Hello," the old woman said. "I'm sorry to have frightened you."

"Oh, no. I'm sorry; I was lost in thought."

"Yes, you looked very deep in thought!" The woman laughed lightly. "I was taking my daily walk and I spotted you sitting here. Thought I'd say hello."

"Oh. How kind." Karan smiled back at the woman, trying to place her face. Obviously, this woman knew her, but Karan couldn't quite grasp from where they knew each other.

Her confusion must have shown on her face, because the old woman said, "You're the young lady that runs the bakery in Lost Town, aren't you? I come in there sometimes for coffee and a scone."

The pieces snapped into place. The widow who always took the table by the window.

"Yes, of course! I remember. Sorry, I'm all out of sorts this morning." Karan shrugged and gave the woman an apologetic smile.

"May I sit with you?"

Karan didn't want company at the moment. She thought of all the excuses she could employ: I was just about to leave; I have to get back to my bakery; I'm feeling a little under the weather, and don't want to get you sick too.

But in the end, politeness won out, and Karan agreed to let the woman take the seat beside her on the bench.

They sat in silence for a bit, watching the people milling about the paths in Forest Park. A young couple strolling hand-in-hand toward the fountain. Two businessmen debating a piece of recent news as they sipped their takeaway cups and fast-walked back to their office.

"I'm sorry if I'm being a nosy old lady," the woman said finally, "but you looked so sad a moment ago… Did something happen?"

"No, nothing."

The woman studied Karan, and pushed the spectacles back up her nose from where they'd slipped down. They were large frames for such a tiny face.

"Did I look that sad?" Karan asked.

"The saddest! I thought something terrible must have happened."

"Oh… Well, I… I've been dealing with a lot of things lately. I guess I'm just a bit tired."

The old woman nodded. "If you're not feeling well, you should visit the health center. The medicine they have here is the best in the world. If we had the medicine we do now twenty years ago, I might still have a son."

The woman smiled as she said this, but her eyes were sad. Karan's heart ached for her.

"I'm so sorry."

The woman waved a hand. "It was a long time ago. I still have my daughters, and we live in such a beautiful city. I have nothing to complain about."

Karan folded her hands in her lap and stared out at the trees shivering gently in the wind. The air was winter cold, and yet there were still flowers peppered around Forest Park that were in full bloom. The fountain ran all throughout the year, unimpeded by frozen pipes, and the streets were never allowed to be icy or leaf-strewn.

No. 6 was beautiful.

But it was unnatural.

"Sometimes I feel down, though, too," the old woman confessed.

"You do?" Karan's heart beat a little faster.

"Of course. Who doesn't?" The woman patted Karan's knee. "But then you just have to remember what a wonderful, safe place you live in. No. 6 is a utopia! When you think about how good we have it, you realize there's nothing to be unhappy about."

"Oh. Yes…"

"At least we don't live in West Block."

"What?" Karan straightened. "What do you mean?"

"Hm?" The woman glanced at her. Her large, round spectacles had slipped down again, and she shoved them back up the bridge of her nose. "Oh, well, West Block is one of the worst places in the world. You might be too young to remember, but back before we built the wall, the whole place was overrun with—"

The woman paused and cleared her throat. "Well. You know," she finished in a whisper. "Even before the quarantine, the people in West Block were an unruly, dirty bunch of criminals. Now the place is a complete wasteland. If there are any survivors after all these years… I don't envy them. They must live in fear, fighting for scraps with those...things. What kind of life could that be?"

Karan's breath trembled. She had never heard such things about West Block. Whenever someone spoke about outside the wall—which happened rarely—they only referenced it in generalities, of how terrible it must be, how terrifying. No one ever referred directly to the undead, and no one dared talk about the living people left behind—some didn't even know there were living people outside the wall. They had been too cloistered or young when the Salvation Edict was enforced, and now there was a decade of children born inside the quarantine zone with no concept of life outside it.

And now she was hearing that the world outside the wall was even more violent than she had thought. That the people living there not only had to fear the infection, but the other living people around them. A desperate, hungry life—that's what Shion was destined for.

But. No.

Mom, I'm sorry. Alive and well.

Shion's note seemed genuine. Nezumi's notes and mice reinforced his claim that he was safe and relatively happy. Karan had to believe that Shion and his friend wouldn't lie about such things, and plus, she needed to believe that her son was living well.

Maybe West Block wasn't as beautiful or organized as No. 6, but it was free, and it was honest, and Karan would take that over No. 6 any day if it meant she could see Shion again.

"I'm sure West Block isn't as bad as you think," she found herself saying.

The old woman blinked at her.

"And I don't think No. 6—"

—is a utopia. That's what she was about to say.

But before she spoke the words, a huge crow swooped down from above and squawked loud enough to make Karan and the old woman jump.

"Heavens!" gasped the woman, slapping a hand over her heart. "What is a wretched thing like that doing in the Forest Park?"

Karan wasn't certain what was and wasn't permitted in the park, but she knew that crow; she had seen it a few times before with its master.

"Karan!"

Karan turned her head and spotted Yoming trotting toward her from a path on her left. She stood to meet him.

"Yoming. How—"

"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting!" Yoming reached their bench and doubled over, panting. "Work ran late, and I didn't have your number, and I've been running all over Forest Park searching for you. I wasn't standing you up, I swear!"

Karan furrowed her brow. What on earth is he talking about? Perhaps he had finally gone mad, like everyone already assumed he was.

The old woman stood. "Do you know this man, dear?"

"Yes. He's a patron..."

Yoming straightened and flashed the old woman a rakish smile. "And her date this evening."

Karan blinked, and for a moment she was too confused to say anything. Yoming chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh man. Come on, Karan, don't look so disappointed. I know Renka set this up as a blind date, but I was sort of hoping you would be more pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face."

Renka? Blind date?

Yoming smiled at her, the perfect picture of hopeful sincerity. Karan could feel the old woman's stare flitting between them. She wasn't sure what Yoming meant by this charade, but she didn't want to be in the woman's company anymore.

"Well," Karan said, crossing her arms and injecting a dose of irritation into her voice, "I don't see how I can be happy to see you. Do you know how long I've been waiting on this bench?"

Yoming's face crumpled. "I'm so sorry. Let me make it up to you."

Karan huffed. "Fine; I'll give you one more chance. But you can bet Renka will hear about this."

Yoming winced, but offered a small smile to the old woman, who watched the exchange with increasing confusion.

"Thanks for keeping Karan company while she waited," Yoming said and offered a sheepish bow to the woman. "We have a lot to talk about, so I'll take her now. Karan?"

Yoming held out a hand. Karan took it and let him lead her away from the woman. Once they were out of sight of the bench, Yoming picked up his pace. They were walking as fast as one could without looking like they were trying to escape something.

Karan didn't know what to make of the situation. Why the charade? And why was Yoming so hurried and serious now?

"Yoming? What's going on?"

"We can talk in a second. Just a bit further…."

They exited the Forest Park and traveled down the sidewalk on the Lost Town side until they reached a white sedan. It was an old model, likely from around the time the quarantine zone was built. Karan hadn't seen a car like this in a while. Hardly anyone in No. 6 owned cars; they just used the public transit or cars provided to them by the city.

Yoming opened the passenger door. "Madame," he said with a sweep of his hand.

A gutteral caw split the air and the crow swooped down and alighted on Yoming's shoulder. The man didn't even flinch.

"I knew that bird seemed familiar," Karan said, and sighed. "Why do I need to get in your car?"

"It's important. Trust me."

Karan crossed her arms over her chest and slipped into the passenger seat. Yoming opened the back door to let the crow in, and then hopped into the driver's seat and locked the doors.

"That was close," Yoming said. He shifted the car into drive and pulled off the curb. "But we should be okay to talk freely here. This old girl is from before the wall; no bugs in here."

"How do you mean?"

"I was listening to your conversation and I didn't like the sound of it. That old lady was probably a spy."

"A spy? What are you talking about? That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

Yoming glanced sideways at her and his expression was so fierce that Karan instinctively pressed herself closer to the car door.

What had she been thinking, getting into the car with this man? She barely knew him and he had a reputation for eccentricity. Karan glanced out the window. They were cruising down the streets of Lost Town, heading in a familiar direction.

"That old lady was trying to get you to talk about the city. That's dangerous territory, especially when the person approaches you on the premise of 'cheering you up.' What they're really trying to do is gauge your loyalty."

Karan turned back to Yoming. His fingers were bone white against the black leather of the steering wheel and his eyes were lit like embers in the fading evening light. His poised intensity reminded her of the crow in the backseat.

"Maybe the old lady was just a helpful bystander. But you were on that bench a long time, Karan. That attracts attention. It was only a matter of time before someone would be sent to check on you."

Was I there that long?

Karan couldn't remember. She had lost track of time throughout the day. After closing her bakery in the afternoon, she had wandered about, eaten up by her memories and regrets. She wasn't sure when she arrived at Forest Park, or even how the sun was now setting. The hours had passed in a blur.

"You think that woman was there to…" Karan shook her head, trying to make sense of the conversation. "To make sure I'm not disloyal to the city?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"But… No. I know her. She comes into the bakery all the time."

"That makes her more suspicious. Like she's keeping you under surveillance. Have you broken rules before?"

Karan opened her mouth to deny the question, but realized that although she had never broken a rule, Shion had. He had let a stranger and a VC into their house in Chronos, and he was now branded a criminal himself. Karan was guilty by association, and no doubt the Security Bureau kept her under close observation.

Surveillance…

The old woman was constantly at her bakery. She had become a frequent customer a week or so after Shion's arrest. And she showed up again today when Karan was feeling helpless and hateful toward the world. Was that a coincidence? She mentioned losing a son, and brought up the city and West Block, as though she were trying to get Karan to talk about these things.

Karan pressed a hand to her mouth. "The woman's glasses… I had never seen her wear glasses before, and they were very large and kept slipping down her nose, as though they weren't made for her face. Do you think they could have been some kind of recording or broadcasting device?"

Yoming's mouth formed into a mirthless smile. "It's likely."

Karan couldn't believe it, but the more she thought back to the encounter, the less sure she was about the woman's intentions. The whole interaction had felt off to her from the start.

But maybe Yoming's conspiracy theories are just rubbing off on me.

Regardless, Yoming had saved her just in the nick of time. She was just about to voice dissatisfaction with the city, and whether the old woman was a spy or not, that was dangerous and could have been overheard and reported by anyone in Forest Park.

"I'm not sure I understand everything that's going on, but thank you," Karan murmured. "For helping me."

"Oh, no problem. And, by the way, that was some quick acting on your part. I was convinced for a minute there that we really were supposed to go out today, you sounded so mad. You're a natural; should have been an actress."

Karan laughed. "All moms are adept at scolding. It's part of our repertoire."

"Is that so?" Yoming chuckled. "Yeah, come to think of it, Mari had a good scolding voice, too."

"Mari?"

"My wife—late wife."

Karan didn't know what to say to this. She wasn't aware Yoming was ever married. Renka had never mentioned it.

"She was taken by the city. She and my infant son."

"I'm… Yoming, I'm so sorry. But… Why? What happened?"

Yoming glanced at her, then turned his gaze back to the road and shrugged a shoulder. "We were foolish. I was all up in arms about the weapons laws, and Mari was angry about the people we left behind. She didn't think it was fair to bar living people from the quarantine zone. Guess she talked about it to the wrong people; one morning she went out with our son for a walk, and neither one came back. Never heard a thing about them again."

"That's terrible. No one ever came to give an explanation even?"

Yoming laughed. "No. No one came to explain. They only came to warn me that if I didn't shut up about our right to bear arms, then I would meet the same fate as the rest of my family."

"That's awful." Karan wrapped her arms around herself.

She felt sick. They just took Yoming's family without explanation, and threatened him baldly. The Bureau didn't even keep up the facade of legality. But then, what was "legal" in No. 6? The government made up the rules as suited them.

She had suffered these last few months with Shion being taken, but Yoming had been suffering for years in silence. She felt awful now for the way Yoming was treated. He was a good man who had been hurt by the city, just as she had been, and he had to spend years ruminating in his loneliness and helplessness. Yoming wasn't crazy; he just saw the truth that no one else wanted to acknowledge.

He and Karan now knew the same truth.

"No. 6 is corrupt," Karan said. A chill lanced down her spine at hearing the words aloud. But she felt a sort of relief, too. Finally, someone said it.

"It is," Yoming agreed. "But don't go saying that to anyone but me."

Yoming pulled to the side of the road and put the car in park. He took Karan's hand and held it between both of his. She was so startled, she didn't say or do anything but stare at Yoming's face.

Though his mustache and hair were shot through with gray, he suddenly looked young to her. He wore the same raw expression that Safu had when she confessed her longing for Shion.

"Seriously, Karan, I know it's hard, but you can't let yourself get caught grieving. You have to stay strong—or at least look strong—in front of other people. Find something or someone to hold onto until the moment arrives when we can strike back. After everything they've taken from us, don't let them take the fight out of you, too."

Karan pressed her lips together. After Shion had been taken, she thought she no longer had anyone to be strong for. But now she realized how ridiculous that way of thinking was. She had to be strong for herself. She had to survive the injustices of the present in order to see a new day arrive, in order to be there when she and Shion were reunited.

Karan gave Yoming's hand a squeeze. "I understand. Thank you. You've helped me out in so many ways today."

She withdrew her hand from Yoming's grip and glanced out the window. The darkened face of her bakery stared back at her.

He had driven her home. Of course he had. How could she have ever doubted his good intentions?

"You be safe now, Karan."

"You too, Yoming."

Karan climbed out of the car, but paused with the door ajar. She turned around and peered into the interior. "Would you like to come in for some coffee? It's been a while since I've shared a drink with a friend."

A smile curled in the corner of Yoming's mouth. "Sure. I'd like that."