A throaty growl greets us once the dimly lit treehouse is in sight. The bulky tiger holds its stance, its shiny fur glowering vaguely under the orange-streaked sky.

Roy taps his phone screen and presses it to his ear. Amongst his other advanced devices, why does he have a modest phone? With all the access he's got, he might afford an Air Phone, which only has a floating screen, even within Dogson's billboards.

"Roy?" Sandra bellows, rising Ax's velvety ears. "I told you not to wander around with Allice. You're as stubborn as a snail."

Roy rolls his eyes, as if he's done this dozens of times before. "I only showed him my lab. Now come here and control your bloodlust tiger."

"And if I don't?"

"Allice, have I told you about Sandra's tendency to wet—"

She cuts the call off as her rapid stomps descend the spiral stairs.

Both Roy and I exchange snorts as Sandra tends to Ax, brushing its nose with civetone and combing its fur. Roy tugs my wrist and hints at the treehouse. "On three." Roy scoops Xin-Yo into his arms. With shaky legs, I stumble behind Roy and ascend the stairs.

When Roy bangs the door shut after I slip through, our laughs compete against Sandra's wails. Tears trickle out amidst my laughs; it's been a while since they do.

"Didn't you always do this to your mom, whenever you peed your sheets and she dried them out after insulting you like a sailor? Gān gà de!"

"Shut up, baka. Let me in!"

A tug on my sleeve jerks me back to reality. Miro stares at me with brimming tears, immediately drying up my laughter.

He points at the TV. It's muted, but it's already bad news if a mugshot of Auntie Morgan is there. Her skin is tightened around the cheekbones, and the circles under her eyes grow darker. Her expression—that of a challenging contender—is the last sign of her insanity.

No. I've been meaning to tell him—why should he find out first?

The news anchor is the same bald eagle-like man. Only this time, more gray appears on his hair. I ask Lindra to unmute the news. "... the new suspect in the Zoobreak Case, Morgan Sweds. She's been given a year in prison for slandering the government for manipulating Dogson City. Mrs. Sweds has also been proven guilty of stealing property from a government institution—in this case, nine Mantis shrimps from Ornamental City Zoo."

The screen shows footage of Auntie Morgan treading in our flat, her jumbled, brown hair cascading down her bowing head. Four officers guard her sides. She pauses at the storage room; is she making sure that the shrimps are gone?

Wait—but what about her researches? Have they been taken as well?

"The second search of the flat results in nothing. It is also reported that there was a commotion during the first search. Security cameras show several youngsters fleeing the scene—one being police fugitive and nephew of Mrs. Sweds, Allice Worke." Having my name spilled to thousands of other ears drives me nauseous.

Auntie Morgan is guilty, and I'm next?

"It's wrong, isn't it?" Miro stares at the carpet, as if it can dry his tears away. "Why didn't you tell me, Allice?"

I should've. But would it be any different? His mom's freedom is traded for mine. From whichever angle, it's my fault. "I'm sorry. I really am." It might sound shallow, but I already bare all my honesty into it.

He remains quiet as his shoulders quake. Before my brain agrees, I wrap my arms around him, lending my shoulders. He hugs back amidst his breakdown, pouring lines of snot on our borrowed t-shirts.

"Is it because of the shrimps? It must be a misunderstanding. It has to."

If only I can offer a satisfying answer.

My parents' faces appear on the screen, luring more of my dread.

"Morgan Sweds is the sister of Marion Worke, who's believed to have initiated the Lowlife rebellion with her husband, Otniel Worke, three months ago. They're set to be freed in three months. But due to severe disobedience to the authorities, the court will add a year to each of their sentence."

My legs shudder as ounces of energy draw out of it. Xin-Yo clings to my legs, staring at me curiously. I can only purse my lips at its feeble attempt to soothe me.

"Dogson should remain calm," the man says statically against the camera, oblivious to the agony his words have brought.

Three souls are stripped from their rightful freedom because they chose to save a good-for-nothing teenager and burdened him with unsaid tasks.

Their sacrifices aren't worth it. What have I done so far besides hiding behind my Highlife friends, taking Miro behind my back too?

"Ornamental City Zoo still has some of its staff around, so there's nothing to worry..." His voice dies with time, as if an unseen force is trying to put some distance between me and the TV.

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"They have a map with pins on it. Where to release those animals and all." Sandra unwraps a roll of ribboned paper with rich sections and colorful circles.

Roy is sandwiched between me and Miro on the couch. "How did you get that?"

"It's my drawing. The original is still at the vets' office, under piles of empty rolled papers." She rolls her eyes. "Ma and the others had a tight schedule yesterday. I asked to stay behind, using a headache as an excuse. They're really bad secret keepers."

Roy sheepishly chuckles. "With the frequent headaches you use as excuses, your MRI check is soon."

Sandra shrugs as she tapes the huge map on the door.

What's the point of uncovering their dirty plot? Human rights are long gone from Dogson, messed up by those in charge. This mystery-solving will only criticize that their rotten plans are still solvable.

Who knows what they'll come up with next?

"The red dots are for harmful animals, and the green ones for the lesser. As you can see here"—I get queasy at how the reds override the greens—"there are fifty-seven red dots and twenty-two greens. Since Highlife and Lowlife's territories are meshed together..."

I deafen my ears. I've recognized no neighborhoods—"Treaty Neighborhood hasn't gotten any 'visits', of course. That's where Mr. Responsible lives, anyway."

It's like being fire-licked from the inside. It takes all my composure to not storm out of the door, break into The Office; where he works as a bush-of-a-skunk mayor, and smash his head against the nearest furniture.

Is Jorge Zaragoza still human?

"Those animals could've gone off-track, couldn't they?" Roy scratches his chin. "They could've visited Treaty Neighborhood. I mean, there are three green dots near it. Did they put up a barrier or something, so they got no visits at all?"

"I actually haven't checked yet. Should we ask someone?"

A name pops out of my tongue, "Mrs. Ailee. She's Jorge's neighbor, and their dislike is mutual."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Sandra claps as a grin lits her face. "If we know what they're putting up, we'll be prepared for another Zoobreak Case. We can warn Lowlife neighborhoods—"

"I'll ask her." Roy fishes his phone out with regained spirit. "For the first time since its launch years ago, Friendly Dogson app comes in handy. Let's search more of Mrs. Ailee, Treaty Neighborhood...

While Roy busily types on his phone, Sandra sums up her lecture. Even Xin-Yo pays attention from the electric socket, which transfers a white light to its forehead, charging its energy. "This is enough proof that Dogson's elites are trying to get rid of Lowlifes. Maybe kick them out of their houses, too. Though I doubt their reason is purely hatred—"

"Then what?" I spit out, unable to bottle my rage any longer. "There's nothing we can do. There are people like me and Miro out there, homeless and unfed. There are also people like you out there, eating lobsters from our taxes—"

"Don't make us look the same." Sandra frowns.

"I've always known that there's no hope, unlike what you said. It's only a matter of time before we're collected like weeds, then thrown into a furnace. Or plucked up like dried grass amidst wheats, like in The Bible's New Testatement."

"Listen." Roy breaks away from his phone, his eyes lingering between me and Sandra, whose face blushes a shade darker. "I know it's crapping you out. But we're close to figure this—"

I'm turning myself in for our sake. There won't be more like my parents or Auntie Morgan. I reach for the door, but Sandra blocks it first. "Get off my way."

"And give them what they want? No."

For the first time in forever, my sweat feels like blades on my skin. It's like having a sledgehammer punching my chest, and a ghoul ripping my brain off, as if killing it.

As I lunge for Sandra's arm, a ringing phone blasts through the hut, startling Miro from his deep muse. Roy presses the phone to his ear. "Mrs. Ailee?" A few seconds later, he puts it on loudspeaker.

"Good evening," a warm voice replies. "You're Lin-Roy, yes? Lin-Orion's son?"

"Do you know him?"

She chuckles. "As good as I know you. Now, what do you want to ask?"

Roy's frown eases to a smile. "About the Zoobreak Case. Was there a loose animal around Treaty that time?"

"Are you one of Mop Head's?" Her tone sharpens. "The entire Dogson knows how close your family and him are..."

"If Mop Head's your nickname for our beloved mayor, then no. I'm Allice's friend. He asked me to call you about this."

"Oh, is he there?"

Roy hands over his phone. Warmth spreads within me, calming my jumpy nerves.

"Allice?" Her voice rises a pitch. "I saw the news. Boy, what have you done—"

"Do you believe it?" I can't stop my despise from leaking, no matter how hard I try to bury it.

"Of course not. You daren't wrinkle a newspaper, let alone stealing." She pauses. "They aren't the same, but—"

"What did Jorge put up to protect Treaty?"

"All I know is a day before the incident, Mop Head ordered all scented flowers to be cut, even my precious jasmines..."

Sandra's mutters are muffled by Mrs. Ailee's heavy sighs, but there are words like 'true' and 'scent' within. Does Mrs. Ailee answer her questions?

"Oh, he also had men placing devices around the neighborhood; they were like Rubik's Cubes. The next morning, they were gone, leaving small, snapped nets on my lawn."

"Could it be a Rubik's Shield like mine?" Roy says in a hushed voice. "Net version?"

"You've been very helpful, Mrs. Ailee. Thank you."

"Anytime. Stay off the radar, Allice. I hope things get better soon." My thumb hovers on the red button when she continues, "I'm sorry for your family. Let me know if you need more help."

"I will." The warmth in the old lady's words console me again, leading my thoughts further from Jorge Zaragoza. "Thank you—"

"Oh, and Allice? Fight him back. If there's someone to end this, it's you. You may be quiet, but you're a potential leader—you must've heard from the neighbors about my impeccable judgments. I'll send up some of my Lowlife contacts. They've been talking a lot about... you know, the unreasonable and under-publicized arrests? And you also have Mr. Ailee and I's support, so don't worry."

Once the line beeps to an end, Sandra says, "These animals from Zoobreak are really agressive. Their senses are improved too, though not for long. Do you guys know how less smell means lesser chances for them to attack, since they aren't attracted to it? I've had the theory for a while, and Mrs. Ailee just confirmed it."

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Translations
Gān gà de: embarrassing (Chinese)
Baka: idiot (Japanese)