When I was young, my sister confided in me that she was a criminal, and I wanted to turn her in. I was never supposed to intercept her, the quiet of midnight her alibi. She'd tucked me into bed after the sun had dipped low and the trolley sputtering under the weight of plumbers, electricians, landscapers, construction workers, the hopeful, the lost, and all in between had retired when the stars bloomed. At that age dreams plagued me, ones I couldn't remember and ones I wish I'd forgotten. Apparitions of the parents I knew I once had, faceless and cold, their features smoothing away each night they visited me. Their noses became flat, eyes hollow, their open mouths like craters on a pale moon.

I woke when one of these specters spoke to me. The voice was shrill, and I sat up in my bed. My door was cracked open, a soft stream of light from the hallway reminding me that I was only a door down from my brother. Through the opening the sounds of people echoed, almost inaudible like the hum of a bumblebee. I moved to the door, looking out. Andrew and Matilda could be awake. On some nights they couldn't sleep, their pacing and low breaths seeping through the thin walls. They knew what our mother and father had looked like, how they had moved. They had someone to miss, memories that had once been flesh, something more than the lump of clay that I tried to breath life into each night.

"I can't leave it out here." Matilda said from below, one of the kitchen lights flickering. I moved to the head of the stairs, stuck between whether I should crane my neck further or slip back into my bedroom.

"What will your brother say?" The voice belonged to a boy, one that was nearly a man.

"He won't figure it out I promise."

"If you give us away..."

"I won't!" Matilda snapped. She had been hidden behind the wall on the left side of the staircase, but now I could see her and the person she was with. He was tall with gangly long legs and arms like a spider with sprouts of blonde hair. He wasn't much older than Matilda, not too far in age from me.

"You know what they'll do to us. Hang us by our necks." He grumbled, his fingers resting on his throat. I'd seen what he alluded to, the public display to reaffirm who had power in the world. People were hung in all different places, some thrashing as they swung from lamp posts and others hanging with glazed eyes off the edge of a bridge. Only criminals were hung the soldiers always said, a fact that made Matilda scoff under her breath and Andrew shake his head. I remembered seeing one girl who appeared to be my age, her red hair frizzy and flying all over the place in the heat. They said that she'd stolen from one of the general stores and hung her up with the rest. I could still see the marks across her throat, the bruising of her delicate skin. What if she had been Matilda?

A squeak slipped from my lips, and I clamped a hand over my mouth. Matilda turned her head, her clear eyes falling on me. The boy looked up, his gaze riding up each step until he found my bare feet on the hardwood.

"She won't tell, Leighton." Matilda said, her voice humid with sincerity. She tried to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't face her.

"You better hope so." He said. The boy Leighton walked away into the kitchen, his steps sure as he found his way to the back door. The door shut like a whisper, and I ran, fleeing back into my dark room.

A beam had shone down on my sister, illuminating parts of her I'd never seen before. I despised it, the way my vision changed and the person I knew forever altered by a force outside myself. Matilda had been my sister, honest and true, but now she was more, multi-faceted and shining like the side of a diamond held up against the light. I locked my door and blocked her out with tears in my eyes. She had lied to me, hidden herself. I could see her being led away by two members of the Guard; the image of her screaming rolled inside my head like a marble I toyed with, the taste of satisfaction that justice had been served sweet on my tongue. It was cruel but I couldn't ignore it, no matter that I didn't wish for it to become reality. She hadn't put her faith in me, and I felt burned.

"Kate, open the door!" Matilda said, her voice low. She didn't bang on the door, keeping quiet for Andrew. If he knew what she had been involved in he'd be furious, probably grab her by the shoulders with the hope to shake sense into her. My brother was many things, but he wasn't a criminal, someone foolish enough to put themselves in danger with the Guard. He would keep her affairs a secret, but he wouldn't ever let her forget the consequences that lurked around them.

"Did you steal things, Matilda?" I whimpered, imagining what boxes were sitting in our living room and how many she had taken herself. "You know that you shouldn't. Why did you do it?"

"We have to eat. I did what I had to do, but I guess you wouldn't understand."

"I'm not stupid." I scoffed, ringing my fingers together. "You are. They'll find you and that boy."

"We're being smart about it, taking things off the train. They won't see us in the dark. If I don't help them, then we won't get anything. That's part of the deal; I give them a hand and they give a share. It's for us, the three of us."

"Them? He isn't the only one?" I said, a lump in my throat. She'd joined a ring, which was rumored until its members were seized one by one. There was always a weak link in the chain, snapping and collapsing the operation entirely. One had been discovered to be working out of East Sector, a few blocks over from our home. The five accomplices were hung over the span of eight months, sporadic just like each capture. The last man had thrown himself into the river and drowned, delusional with the idea that death was a choice. Once you were taken, there were no choices.

"We work as a team to make sure no one gets caught. I trust them, and they trust me." Matilda cleared her throat, the door creaking under her weight. "I hope you'll trust me too, keep this secret for me from everyone even Andrew."

I shook my head, stepping away from the door. The shadow of her feet glowed from outside, sweeping from left to right as she swayed back and forth. I knew that she was nervous, but I couldn't decide if it was because of me or the crime she had committed.

"If I don't do this, we won't have enough. You're my little sister, and I have to take care of you. Promise me that you won't say a word."

"What would you do if I told?" I said, and Matilda took a breath. Her fingernails drummed against the door before she pulled them away. She seemed to be frozen, lost in thought, arrested in possibility. Would her own sister be her demise? Would I watch her be thrown in the back of a black van with a smile on my face?

"I wouldn't be able to stop you." She said, "if you went to one of the soldiers tomorrow and gave me up, there'd be nothing I could do. They'd come to the front of the house, break down the door, and yank me out of the living room by the hair. The two of you would watch me go, and then I'd disappear. That'd be it for me, out of existence."

She hadn't yelled at me, cursed at me for threatening her, but all I felt was anger. In her own words she would give up, let them lead her away in chains. I didn't know what I expected from her, from my sister who stole, but I never thought that she wouldn't put a fight. Matilda had always tried to control her destiny, to change the way the wheel spun. She had taught me that life wasn't kind and to live you had make your own path. It was all for the people you loved she'd say: cloth them, feed them, protect them. Things wouldn't make you happy, but your family would. A family needs things to survive, and with ours crumbling, Matilda had always battled to maintain what she had left. Was this her way of trying to keep us?

"You'd go that quickly? You'd let them take you just like Mom and Dad?" I sniffed, wiping my right eye with the back of my hand. "You think that doing what they did will take care of us? You know well enough that it won't."

"What happened to them won't happen to me because I don't plan on going anywhere." Matilda said. I heard her take a step back. "Open the door. Let me show you."

Swallowing, I decided to let Matilda present her argument. I opened the door, opening it slowly. She stood across from me with her arms over her chest, shoulders shrugged. Soft bags hung under eyes the color of a plum, the glazed look in her eyes reminding me how tired she must be. This couldn't be her first adventure at midnight; how many nights had I thought she was one door away when she ran the streets by the light of the moon?

"Thank you." Matilda said, her cheeks a soft pink. Her dark curls were pulled back high, wisps that had broken free from the elastic hanging down past her ears.

She stuck out her hand towards me, an offering. I brushed past her, ignoring it.

I walked down the stairs without her, my heart beating like a hammer against my ribcage. Past the thin drywall awaited a mystery, vague daydreams of money in canvas sacks piled up higher than I was tall drifting into my mind. Matilda followed behind me, only a step between us. Only she knew what she'd stolen, what was sitting in our home.

The lights were on, illuminating our pitiful dining room that housed a round coffee table which once lived on the streets. I remembered the afternoon that Matilda and I had rolled it home, sitting on the concrete sidewalk with soapy, wet rags as we scrubbed it back to life. A vase of wilted flowers surrounded by a dusting of flower petals sat at the table's center. I turned away, the open archway leading into the living room glowing with candlelight.

Matilda walked ahead of me and through the doorway, looking back at me over her shoulder. "Come on," she said. I stepped in, looking around, my eyes searching for the mountain of goods.

Our living room looked empty just as it always did. One couch that leaned heavy on the right side, a scuffed table with a burnt candle, the lamp in the back corner that flickered like a firefly. Only one thing was out of place, a cardboard shoebox resting on the couch cushion. Its edges were torn, dirt stains and scratches across its sides. It looked abandoned, street trash, something ignored in the back corner of a dark closet.

We came towards it, and Matilda lifted the lid. It was nearly empty, an ivory slip of paper that looked coffee bleached sitting at the bottom. She stuck her hand in, removing it and rubbing her fingers against its surface. "This is it. A grand thief, aren't I?"

"What is it?"

She turned it over, letting me see its opposite side. I squinted, trying to make out the message in the poor light. It was a business card for the Wooden Nickel Pub, the word triumvirate scratched on its face. Matilda smiled, "it's my induction. I'm an ally of the circle, and that means I'll get a large portion of the goods stolen and stockpiled each month. It means we won't waste away."

I took the card in my hands, staring at the glossy card. What I hadn't expected was this, a little token instead of an entire fortune. Perhaps that would have been too obvious. This was a secret message in a bottle, the beginnings of a hidden code. Committing crime was something I always imagined to be sloppy, a dirty act with fists raised, innocents ripped apart in crossfire. What Leighton was offering was an idea I had never comprehended, clever and clean. What I held in my hand was a ticket to another life, one that was full and never left us wanting.

"You won't get caught?" I asked.

"Never."

The card left my hand, my fingers pushing it into Matilda's palm. "If it's always like this, maybe I might help you."

I sprinted through the fields away from the train tracks, crashing through tall stocks of sun-stained grass as two members of the Guard chased after me. I could hear their heavy boots against the dirt and their screams as they yelled at me to halt, that they'd skin me alive once they caught me. The gloomy shadow of the city hung above me on top of the hill, the loud puffing of the train singing from behind me. The sun was setting, casting an amber glow in the air as my shadow stretched in front of me. Long rows of corn, wheat, and oats formed hundreds of narrow pathways arching up towards the city walls.

The hill wasn't painted with grass like the valleys below, instead with a coat of rock armor. As I approached the rocky terrain, I dug my boots into the sticky, orange clay, feeling the earth slide away underneath my feet. I pulled myself up a large boulder, the toes of my boots scrapping against the stone. Digging my fingernails into the rock grooves, I drug myself to the top. I took in heavy breaths, scanning for the next crag to climb.

"Stop, you whore!" The taller of the two Guards yelled, pulling an arrow back in his bow. I looked down below at the two figures black against the setting sun's aurora. They stood at the base of the rocks, and I wondered if the man was an accurate shot.

"I didn't steal anything." I smiled, holding out my empty hands.

"You were about to!" The shorter one called from below, jabbing a rough fist in my direction.

"You're persecuting me for something that I might have been about to do?" I mused, hoping to buy myself a little more time. "That sounds quite unfair. Where's the evidence against me?"

"You were holding up a crate!" The little one cackled, wrinkles rising on his long forehead. "You were going to steal it! I'm not blind, gutter rat!"

"Maybe I was loading it. Maybe I was tidying up your messy stacking job. You should really be thanking me instead." I said and the tall one blew out a hot breath in frustration.

"You are a thief, and you know what happens to thieves!" He pulled back his bowstring, aiming at my head.

I dove down into the rock base, scratching up my elbows. There were two thumps before all went silent, the only sound I could hear being my rugged breathing. My heart was pumping in my chest as I laid against the rock, trying to gather my courage to move. I peaked over the ledge cautiously, the two Guards now dead on the ground as red blood pooled around them. In that moment my stomach felt like an ocean as I covered my mouth with my hand.

"What happens? What happens to thieves? Tell me, are you gonna shoot her or not?" Ethan said with a roaring laugh. He leapt down from a crevice in the rock wall above me, his feet landing on the stone beside my head with a loud thud before he extended a hand down to me.

I took it as he pulled me up, Malaki dropping onto the rocks beside us. My head was spinning; I felt as though I was going to pass out. "Get to the train and start unloading some crates before it leaves." Malaki snapped, sliding his unused arrows into the quiver on his back. "Kate, let's go. You know the rules."

"I want my share first." I said with a grumble. "I played your little distraction as usual, and now I want my pay. I about got shot in the head!"

"Well, your pay is on that train, so we will have to unload it and drop it off on your porch. Hey, we're giving you next day shipping for free." Ethan shrugged as he jumped down to the ground, kicking the guard with his boot. "We need to get rid of these boys too."

"Put them with the rest. Soldier scum." Griffin's voice rang out from above us. I craned my neck up to where he stood on top of the summit, Cayson and Bodhi standing to either side of him. "Take Kate home and we'll get the crates back to the Capital."

Malaki nodded to me as he jumped from the rock to the grass. Ethan grabbed an arm of both dead men and began to drag them through the field, humming to himself as he went. I leapt from the boulder, stumbling slightly. Malaki grabbed my shoulder to steady me. I glanced up to the top of the hill, but the three had already disappeared from the ridge. With a deep breath, I looked to Malaki as he flagged me after him.

We had a long walk around the base of the hill, one shaded by dark evergreens and coated in slick rocks and thorn bushes until we would reach our little gravel path. It was our secret, leading up through the rock formation into the back of the city where we could sneak in unnoticed by the authorities. Malaki walked ahead of me with a long stride but I stopped short. "I want to unload the train."

"Not your place." He said, turning back to look at me. "And it's getting dark. Your sister will have a fit and it's not a safe walk."

I snorted but picked up my pace until we walked beside one another shoulder to shoulder. "Matilda will be fine, and so am I. I know how to board and rob a train so taking crates is a piece of cake. I'm capable of defending myself, but you boys only let me play the bait, which seems more dangerous! That Guard could have killed me if I'd fallen so what's walking home at night alone compared to that?"

"I was watching you the entire time. I won't be able to protect you if you're alone on the streets, Kate." Malaki proceeded along the path between boulders, slipping through the tight squeeze of rock as I followed in his wake. Large shoots of weeds and prickly branches jutted out from the side of the hill and we had to duck under the overhanging brush.

"Like I said, I can handle myself. I don't always need supervision."

"Leighton told me to take you home, and I promised him that I would so that's what I intend to do."

I felt my cheeks flush as I shook my head, watching Malaki's back as he walked. "He should have talked to me instead. He's not even here anyways so why listen?"

"You know how far that argument would have gotten you with him." Nowhere, my inner voice chimed in defeat. Talking with Leighton would have gotten me to where I was now, walking through bushes home with my escort while the boys had all the fun. I cursed under my breath. "He wants to keep you safe." Malaki said, rubbing the back of his neck. "He only wants to protect you."

"I didn't ask him to." There were things I wanted from Leighton, but I didn't need him or Malaki to be my nanny.

"It's his way of showing that he cares." Malaki shrugged as he pushed back stalks of grass, stepping along a base of rocks.

"He needs to just tell me if he does." I retorted, following his path. "Just a hint for your reference."

Malaki looked at me over his shoulder, a dark look on his face. I only offered a smile. "You know I can't do that."

"Well you should. All of us know you'd be better for her than that meathead."

"I don't care what you all think, Kate." Malaki let out a sigh, "I'm not going to screw everything up if she wants to stay with him, a meathead or not. If she's happy, then I'm happy."

"You aren't happy, and hell, you need to screw everything up with that relationship. Jack Warren is the worst man in this city besides Emperor Tron himself, and you'd be better for Matilda. You'd both be happier together, case closed."

"Whenever she sees that, I'll jump at the chance. For now, I'm not ruining her relationship regardless if he's a terrible man or not. I respect her choices and support her even if I wish it was me instead of him."

"I wish you would." I said softly. "Our whole family would rather see you with her than Jack. He's not good to her, Malaki. Andrew likes you too, which is the biggest compliment you can get from him since we all know he doesn't approve of this lifestyle."

I watched him shake his head. "I know Warren so don't remind me. Sometimes people just have to figure these things out alone regardless of how much you try to reveal the truth. When she's sure, I'll still be here."

We walked up the hill in silence as I let Malaki brew on his words. It pained me to admit it, but he was right. Love was tricky, and sometimes even the best of us could be blinded by what we refused to see. The best match you could ever dream of could be standing right in front of you, and you might just never realize it.