"The sun is no longer shining," I said, reminding her of her promise.

It dipped low, disappearing into the horizon. The sky was a blended scheme of purples, oranges, and blues. I felt small under its wide breadth.

We stopped as she said we would and hid amongst the trees. Motioning for my backpack until I handed it to her, she pulled out a thick blanket and gave it to me. I bundled myself within its warmth as she withdrew one for herself. From her own bag, she pulled out two apples, two water bottles, and a bag of rice. She scooped six spoonfuls of stew into the bag and shook, until the red sauce saturated every grain.

Rice again. I shouldn't complain. At least she was feeding me. I knew I'd reached a low point of my life when food was an uncertainty and not a guarantee. She produced two spoons, offering me the slightly smaller one. We shared the rice until our spoons hit the empty plastic bag, not wasting a single grain. Without speaking, she wiped the spoons clean and wrapped them in a napkin before packing them into her backpack. I took a sip of my water, shielding my eyes from the sun's rays with my hands.

Almost to myself, I said, "When I was a child, I couldn't understand how I could feel so cold when the sun was so bright. It's warmer here than in the city, but I'm still freezing."

"I felt deceived," Kambili confessed. "Like I was being cheated. It took a while for me to understand why the world is the way it is."

"You learned about the Old World?" We glossed over the past in my city. There were no books, no information on anything before my great-great-grandfather built Verium. Why we continued this practice, I didn't know. I challenged my father once a few years ago. Barely looking away from the papers on his desk, he patted my head, saying, "It is for the good of the Citizens." I wanted to ask him if the real reason was to silence the Citizens, but I didn't dare. I imagined his cold eyes fixating on me, staring me into submission far better than my mother ever could.

Kambili broke my reverie with her words. "Of course I did. Everyone in my village does—or did. It's been a long time since I've been home. I had a friend who used to bring me books and magazines about science and history that showed a description of the Old World. I couldn't comprehend it. A life with electricity and light as a given? I still don't understand it." She turned to me. "But I guess you would."

She was right. I did. My city used generators to heat every square mileage in order to replicate the climate of the Old World. Summer, fall, winter, spring. And we drained the resources and money from the rest of Verium to sustain us.

I bit into the apple, my chomping underscoring the solemnity of the moment. I wanted to change the subject. My discomfort grew as the silence stretched. It was as if she condemned me for my family's sins without saying a single word. Fidgeting in my seat, I tried to focus on the horizon and drown out the noise, my thoughts, and Kambili's accusatory eyes.

"People say my father's a murderer." It was what I had said to Dr. Mathers.

"They're not wrong."

"My father is a hard man. He likes to be in control, and he likes his life to be orderly." He had no time for things he deemed insignificant...or people, like his daughters. "But he's fair." I thought of Cookie and the glint of her gun as it ricocheted a bullet into Roscoe's body, ending a life so easily. Without thought. Without hesitation. Without remorse. And then I thought of the guards who cruelly brutalized her before dragging her to the palace, where my father awaited. I didn't know what to think. "My father is a fair man." I didn't know who I was trying to convince. "He wouldn't kill unless he had to do so, unless someone pushed him. I'm not saying they deserve it. All I'm saying is—"

"That they deserve it. That's exactly what you're saying." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "You think I want to be here with you, with my brother far away? Do you think I chose this? Do you?" As her anger rose, her voice quieted until it became a fierce whisper. "Believe me, Celeste, if given a choice, I would've chosen to live freely inside your privileged city, where the Citizens live in perfect prosperity."

Before I could stop myself, I said, "Each and everyone us is an equal Citizen, not one greater than another." It was a saying I had learned from my father, something he had learned from his father and so on and so on, down my family line until we reached Navarie who created the phrase, just as he created the state.

I hated myself almost immediately for spouting the lie I had once believed was true. In the time of Navarie, that moto had been the unifying cry that rallied the people together as one. Whatever was left of the equality and liberty—the original ideologies of Verium—perished when Emmanuel Navarie commanded construction of the wall.

Kambili looked as though she would punch me, and I stepped back warily.

She sneered as she noticed my movement. "If you're going to defend a murderer, at least have the courage to stand your ground."

"Not defend," I said. "I'm not defending him. You just don't understand. You don't know him."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Explain it to me then, the complexities of our great First Citizen, Maximilian Navarie. Enlighten the uneducated masses, Celeste."

I didn't even know my father, and I lacked the knowledge to cite my protestations. All I had was the unwavering faith within me that my father was not as villainous as she made him seem.

"We are where we are because you chose to send Nathaniel to my palace to disabuse the trust we all had in him and spy for your own gain. If you need someone to blame, maybe you should look in the mirror."

She took a menacing step forward, her hands clenched into fists. "Think very hard on your next words, Atulu."

I stood my ground, aligning with my family. "My father does not act unless provoked."

"And I would not have acted unless provoked first," she said spinning around so hard that the heels of her boots created small indentations in the dirt. Kambili plumped her bag after setting it on the ground, and then laid her head on top of it. Fishing in her pocket, she extracted a shiny apple and bit into it. I could hear her angrily chewing.

I was no longer was hungry. My own apple had yellowed as air made contact with the fruit, but I didn't know when I would eat next. I took a bite, forcing myself to swallow it down. I threw the core on the ground next to me when I finished and laid down to rest my eyes.

Sleep had almost claimed me when I shot up in the middle of the night. I brushed the grass from my clothes and threw the blanket off my body. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Kambili. She lounged on the ground, her head resting on her backpack. She wasn't moving, but I could tell that she was awake. I nudged her with my arm, mindful because I knew she was armed.

"Don't you see that I am trying to sleep, Atulu?"

"You're not sleeping," I said. "And neither am I. We might as well try opening the journal and read it."

Kambili pushed herself up into a sitting position. "I'm sure you understand why I can't trust you with such sensitive information."

"It's my blood that opens the journal. How can you keep it from me?"

"Don't think that I've forgotten our conversation of before. I don't forget where your loyalties lie. He is your father, so I can see why it is hard for you to accept the truth. Still, that does not change the fact that you align yourself with a man who is the cause of the suffering of my people. It is not in my best interest to trust you."

"You and Nathaniel! Trying to tell me what I should and should not believe without presenting me with the facts. You expect me to trust you at your word and believe that my father is evil, but the worst thing someone has ever done has been to steal me from my home!"

"You wanted adventure, yes? This is what you told Enyi. You wanted to see the world, live outside your walls." She laughed. "What you wanted doesn't exist. You think we are all here having the time of our lives? No, we suffer. Somedays, we don't know where we'll get our next meal. All of a sudden, the state claims the land that had been ours for decades because you need more fuel, more coal, more water routes to fund your extravagant lifestyle in Celestia. You wanted to know what it was like to live as one of us. Now, you know."

The animosity between us returned in tenfold. "I see that we're at an impasse."

"There is no we. There is me, and then there is you. If you think of trying to steal the journal, know that I would shoot you in a heartbeat and leave you to die." She laid down. "Don't wake me up again."