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“Three of you,” said the old woman. “Three of us. Quite a coincidence.”

“There’s no coincidence,” said Jesse, and I winced, thinking that Billy would have made four. The woman nodded.

“You’ll forgive us for not bringing you home to the roost,” said the old woman, holding Chase’s hand while she spoke. “Given the circumstances with the other posts, we’d rather not risk discovery.” Her voice was brittle, but her back was ramrod straight.

“We understand,” said Chase.

The woman with the notepad raised her brows at me. “I have to admit, I never thought I’d see you two alive.” There was something familiar about her voice, the way she articulated every single word. The muscles in my shoulders tensed.

“Faye,” warned the sour-faced woman.

“You have powerful friends,” she said, tapping her pencil on the paper.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked.

“Faye Brown,” she answered with a little smirk.

“AKA Felicity Bridewell,” said Sour Face.

“The reporter,” I recognized, and felt my lips draw back. “You reported on Truck’s execution.”

“And my AWOL,” said Chase. “You almost got us arrested.”

The farmhouse with the barred windows. The stolen bike. Our escape in the middle of the night. The memories were all too clear.

“No,” she said. “You almost got you arrested. I just made you famous for it.”

I took a step closer. “What are you doing here?” I looked to the old woman. “What’s she doing here?” It occurred to me too late that this might be a bust. I stopped short and glanced back at the truck.

“Didn’t know you’d have such high-priority visitors, did you Jane?” Felicity—or Faye, whatever her name was—asked the old woman.

“Felicity’s with us.” Jane frowned. “She’s also employed by the FBR as a newscaster.”

She may have been working both sides, but that didn’t ease my mind as it had with Marco and Polo. She’d done a lot of damage with her words.

“While we’re making introductions, this is Ember Miller and Chase Jennings,” Felicity announced. “AWOL and…” She tapped her lip with the pencil. “Reform school runaway turned sniper, am I right? You two are still big news in this region. Congratulations.”

“Let’s go,” I said.

“Haven’t been in the game too long, have you?” she surmised, writing something on her notepad. Before thinking twice I’d slapped it out of her hand. The pencil rolled across the ground and she stopped it with her foot and bent slowly to retrieve it. Behind me, Jesse chuckled.

“We were nearly killed because of your reports,” I snapped.

“Look,” she said. “I just read what comes across my desk. It’s nothing personal.”

“Maybe you could report something worthwhile,” I said. “What the Bureau’s doing to the Article violators, or their own soldiers that go AWOL. Those would be real stories.”

“I’d be dead in five minutes,” she retorted. “And then who would give you your precious intel?”

“Ease up,” said Jane to the reporter. She looked to me with apology in her eyes. “Faye’s provided your organization with a lot of Bureau secrets over the years.”

“By way of Truck,” said Sour Face. “God rest his soul.”

Felicity dropped her injured expression at the mention of his name.

“Look,” she said, her tone not quite so biting. “I’m one of a handful of female reporters left in the country. The entire country. The FBR is not exactly the most inclusive workplace for women.” She inhaled through her nostrils. “I’m only there because they need to appeal to the illusion that they’re still looking out for everyone’s best interests. Felicity Bridewelclass="underline" the token girl. If they knew I was here, I’d be no better off than you two.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” I said.

“Heard anything interesting lately?” Jesse asked Felicity.

“That depends,” she answered, chin lifted. “You don’t get yours until I get mine. That’s the way I work.”

Jesse smirked. “I bet it is.”

“What do you want?” asked Chase. She turned to him, but wilted under his intimidating glare.

“A ride to the safe house,” she said. “Since his assassination attempt, Chancellor Reinhardt’s been on a witch hunt. Anyone with field connections is being brought in for questioning.” She air-quoted the word. “Things are getting a little too hot here for my taste.”

“A ride to the safe house,” I said. “I’m sure we can arrange that.”

She narrowed her gaze. “And yet somehow I’m not convinced.”

“It’s gone,” said Chase bluntly.

“Gone?” said Sour Face. “What do you mean gone?”

Jane crossed herself and muttered a quiet prayer.

Felicity paled, but gained composure quickly. “What happened to it?”

“The FBR flattened it. I guess that didn’t come across your desk,” said Chase.

The look on her face indicated that it had not.

“Where am I supposed to go now?” she asked, more annoyed than afraid. Even if the soldiers at the old president’s hideout hadn’t explicitly told us not to direct anyone else that way, I wasn’t sure I would tell this woman about it.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “The same place any of us are supposed to go.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” she said.

“You’ll lay low with us until this clears,” said Jane.

Felicity’s mouth had pulled tight, and she gave one curt nod. “There’s an informant that’s been turned by the FBR. He’s feeding the locations of the posts to the FBR. He’s got some sort of deal worked out with Reinhardt.”

“What kind of deal?” asked Jesse.

“I don’t know,” said Felicity. “No one knows his name or location. He talks directly with the chief on a private radio frequency.”

“No one has seen him?” asked Chase.

“No one I know,” she said.

This wasn’t new news; we knew someone was selling out the resistance. The only thing that had changed was that we now knew whoever it was had connections with Reinhardt.

“That’s all I’ve got,” said Felicity. She paused, and then looked at Jesse. “I hope Three’s planning on making the Bureau pay for this.”

I didn’t like the woman, but on some level I understood her. She was risking a lot with no way out.

As the sun peeked through the concrete pylons, we told them that Three planned to attack Reinhardt’s party in Charlotte. I removed a Statute from the boxes designated for this post that Jesse had begun to unload and gave it to Jane.

“Three can’t fight the FBR alone,” I said. “We need help. If everyone stood together, they’d have to listen.”

Jane rubbed the heel of her hand over her collarbone.

“This town is afraid,” she said. “Last year the Blues came through on one of their census runs and tore this place apart. There’s not many still here that would even consider fighting back.”

“Maybe they just need a little motivation,” suggested Jesse. My mind flashed to the cemetery and the soldier in the cage, and I wondered morbidly if he’d helped provide some motivation there, too.

Felicity’s brows lifted, and I wasn’t the only one who saw her gaze drift down to his grinning mouth.

“We’ll do what we can with these Statutes,” said Sour Face. “There’s another printing press in Dalton. We’ve got a source inside that might be willing to double your efforts. I suggest you make that your next stop.”