I feel numb; body and soul. I woke up in the back seat of one of the Purus vehicles Saint stole from the compound. He refused to turn the car around, so I, with my hands tied up, lunged my body at him as he was driving down the road. He stopped the car but only to tie my body against the car seat.

'Meet me where the sky turns red... I'll need you when things are bad...Tell me if you'll be there...won't you tell me if I'll see you there...'

Saint turns on the radio. It may be an attempt to lighten the mood or fill the silence in this car. He may also just like the song playing. All songs made these days are starting to sound the same, and a lot of them sound terrible. However, they tend to be catchy. On any other day, I might have lost myself to such uniform beats and awful singing, but today, nothing can distract me from those I left behind.

I told Kane we'd escape, but he isn't in the car with me. Mathea and my mother are not in the car with me either. Instead, I'm left with this stranger who probably thinks of himself as my saviour. If only Saint knows how much he has ruined me. Trying to play a hero, he took me out of the Purus compound but left my family behind.

I silently pray Purus members will follow us and take me back. Considering we've been driving for a while now, they either don't care enough to, or my father's employees that Saint mentioned earlier are doing a great job.

Saint apologized a few times, but I believe he, too, knows that his apologies amount to nothing. He said there was no time to help them and that more security would have been alerted about our escape. He also apologized for my broken nose and said someone will check it out once we arrive at a new compound. I only cried in return.

"We're near the station. Your father said I should travel with you to the West Wing, and he'll meet you there. He also managed to arrange for you to start a new treatment with a different and less severe doctor from the Gifted Program. Somehow, he managed to convince them to take another chance with you. They often dispose of defects like you."

"Your job was to help us escape, yet you left three of them behind. I hope they ruin you," I say.

"I don't work for the Gifted Program, Willow. Just so you know, I don't work for the Foster government either. Just your father. The program sometimes allows people like your father to privately employ others, knowing your father will use me for the program's benefit anyway. I've been spying on the Purus...I guess I indirectly work for the program. And as much as your father wanted me to get all of you out, I'm only paid to get you out."

"I'll kill you."

"I'm sure you'll try." Saint turns the steering wheel, and the car begins to slow down.

I look out the window and see we have arrived at the East Wing pick-up and drop-off point; East Hall. There is one of these at each wing in Geode. A shuttle from the Geode Shuttle Station will pick us up and take us to the station where we will have to go through further security before we can be taken to the West Wing.

Roads have been built to connect the various wings of Geode to the station, but only a few vehicles are allowed to drive on them. This is why we'll wait for a shuttle. Saint will also have to pay for his car to be taken care of here unless he has someone that will drive it back to his house for him.

"I'm going to help you stand up." Saint is now by my side and lifts me out of the car. "It won't help if you try to cause a scene. Gifted Program officials know you're here."

Saint unties me and puts one of my arms around him, so he supports my weight as we walk into the building. I notice him tap something on the car keys before he shoves the item into his pocket. I'll kill him once I get the chance.

"Have you ever been on these buses? They aren't much, but the view is cool. You know the roads are built over the lake, right? The wing we're headed to is directly opposite this one."

I know that, but I don't answer him. As we enter the building, I begin moving towards the waiting area, but Saint moves in the opposite direction, pulling me with him as he does so. We walk straight to the check-out desk, and when I think Saint is about to present our tickets to the employee on duty; the man at the desk nods his head and allows us to pass through.

"You should sit down," Saint suggests.

"It's close." I shake my head and keep my eyes fixed on the bus in the distance. It's close, so I see no point in sitting down.

I wonder what Father is doing for Mathea, Mother and Kane. He should feel bad knowing they're stuck with Purus members. I know I do, and all I wish for is a way to help them. However, a one-man squad can't do much against the Purus or any other organisation for that matter. If Saint never betrayed me; I would've asked for his help, sure he must know people that can provide me with the intel and strength I'll need to get my family back.

However, even though I am not sure how, I will help. I'll think of something once we arrive at the West Wing.

My current thought is more realistic; revenge. If I cannot help my family, I will avenge them. The Purus members often have public demonstrations, so they won't be difficult to find, and if I cannot save my family; I'll hurt one Purus member for the days we're apart.

The bus arrives, and Saint and I, being one of the few people standing, are the first people to enter it. We take the seats near the door as we wait for the other passengers to enter and for the driver to take us to our destination.

In any other circumstance, I would've paid attention to the clothing of each passenger entering the vehicle. If Mathea was with me, I would've stupidly challenged her to a memory contest. I've done that before. I'm sure Mathea thinks I do that mainly due to boredom, but I also like to test her and help her practise to improve her gift.

However, instead of focusing on the passengers, I think of Mathea, Kane and my mother. I wonder what they are doing right now. Perhaps they're being punished for my escape. I've heard Purus members strongly believe in punishment—or correction, as they call it.

"I am sorry, Willow. I would've helped them if I could." Saint doesn't look at me while saying this. I wonder what I'd see in his eyes: guilt, empathy or lies. "I really would've."

"Have you ever lost someone you cared for, Saint?" I say, unsure about why I begin this conversation.

"No, not in the way you have. I've lost contact with all my family members, but they're not kept away from me."

"They weren't taken from you."

"No, Willow, they weren't."

I want to hurt him in the same way I've been hurt and show him all the rage I feel. A part of me wants to explain how he will never understand my pain. I want to scream so loud, but I don't. That won't amount to anything in the end. The damage has been done, and my only option is revenge.

"Do you wonder how it would be to live a normal life?" I say, turning my body to face the window of the bus as the bus begins moving. The view of the lake is nice from here.

I don't give Saint a chance to reply before continuing my speech, "I was never excited to be Gifted. I never believed my freedom had a price, but I had no choice in the matter. Instead, I've been tortured as a treatment and have abandoned my family. Even worse, I'm left talking about this to someone who doesn't understand."

Saint remains quiet for a few seconds, but I feel his body turn to face me. I don't look back at him. Instead, I look out the window of the bus and admire the view of the lake and all areas I can see that have yet to be replaced by buildings.

"I had an older brother. You could say he passed away a couple years ago. We always see warnings about drunk drivers, but my brother never took them seriously." Saint says. His voice remains monotonous, but I see grief all over his face.

"He died in a car accident?"

"No, that wasn't it. In a way, the accident eventually led to his death. He became paraplegic; he lost muscle function in the lower half of his body. Has anyone ever told you about the conditions of the Merit Act? If the child proves to be of use, their termination may be denied. I prayed my brother would fall into that category."

I never knew that condition regarding the Merit Act. All I know is parents can terminate their children under the age of eighteen depending on the child's disability and the severity of it. People can also choose this if they're over eighteen, but euthanasia is entirely different.

"Did your parents terminated him? Or did he..."

"They waited to see if he could be useful. He was never good at sports, so that was immediately ruled out. He wasn't creative either. I think my parents prayed he would be useful, too, because even though he was never the brightest; they tested his usefulness in academics." Saint chuckles, and I can't make out if he is in disbelief or amused.

Knowing where the story is leading to, I want to stop him from continuing. "I'm sorry, Saint."

"They paid for the best tutors and bribed his way into the best jobs and internships any child could have at that age. But he still wasn't good enough for them. They thought it would be too much...trouble to care for him. No one else would care for him, and they figured the group homes wouldn't help either. Those places are no good. It was easier this way."

Saint leans his head against the window and closes his eyes.

"We have different versions of pain, Willow." Saint says as a sad smile appears on his face. "I think about him often. He was always such a jokester, and he always said these jokes in the wrong moment."

"He reminds me of my cousin," I say, feeling guilty as I think of Topaz. "My cousin, Topaz, hardly knows when to stop."

"Topaz? He's the scapegoat of your family isn't he?"

"Well, I wouldn't say we blame him for everything." Somehow, I master the energy to laugh, thinking about all the times I blamed my mistakes on Topaz when we were younger.

Saint first looks at me in confusion, but after sometime, the look of confusion changes to one of pity and disbelief. "You don't know, do you?"

"I don't know what?"

Saint sighs before speaking, "You should talk to your father about this.  Damn, I wonder if your cousin knows."

"We found out about my grandfather, if that is what you mean. I don't know why that would make him a scapegoat though."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was talking about the scapegoat contract. The Kin Act lets people enter into them; contracts where another person agrees to go to prison for their relative's actions. You can't escape them."

"Topaz would never sign that. Who would he go to prison for anyway?"

"I don't know which relative he would go to prison for, but Topaz never signed the contract; his mother signed it on behalf of him. He is still a minor."

"If that time ever comes, Topaz will refuse to go."

"You really don't know how anything works, do you? Parents can enter these contacts on behalf of their minor children, but when the minor turns eighteen, the minor doesn't have to comply with it. In that case, whoever signed the contract for Topaz would have to go to prison unless another plan is made. If any crime was committed now, your cousin would go to prison for the next two years. Topaz is sixteen, right? He'd go to prison for two years before he can escape that contract."

"Aunt Ankah loves her son too much to put him in that situation." That's one thing I'm certain of regarding my aunt. She'd never hurt her son. My mind starts racing, and I start to think of Topaz's other parent. He'd do this.

"Topa—"

"Wait," I interrupt Saint, "can a parent sign the contract if he raped the mother?" I whisper these words, ashamed to even have to say them.

"No," Saint looks curious, but doesn't ask for an explanation, "but the contract was signed by a lady called Ankah. She signed it years ago when Topaz wasn't even born."

I start thinking about what Isiah said to us before we left his store; how Ankah never wanted Topaz initially. Mother also said grandfather basically forced Ankah to give birth to Topaz, knowing Ankah had nowhere else to go.

Now, receiving this information from Saint, I realise why grandfather wanted Ankah to have the baby. He must have wanted Topaz to enter into this scapegoat contract, and Ankah probably hated the idea of Topaz when she signed it.

"This can't be real."

"I've heard of others who do this, Willow. Your family isn't the first and probably won't be the last. These contracts are rarely approved though. I forgot the conditions, but you definitely have to have a lot of power to get away with it."

"He should just run away," I say. Topaz doesn't deserve any of this. He's just a child.

"I heard Ankah tried to get out of the contract by offering two children in Topaz's place, but the parents of the other children never agreed. As for running away, scapegoats can't leave Geode."

My mother's words fill my mind; she mentioned that Ankah would give Thea and me up for her own child. Also, during the confrontation with Aunt Ankah, my mother mentioned that Ankah has asked her to give Mathea and me up before. The scapegoat contract must have been the first time. Ankah grew to love Topaz and must have tried to give Mathea and me up in order to save him.

"Do you know the name of the other children?" I ask, needing to confirm my theory.

"No, but the mother of the children was called Zee. Honestly, Willow, your family amazes me. I wonder how wealthy I'd become if I made a movie about your life. I'd never have to work again."

"Billions, I'm sure."

"I'm sorry. I should be more sensitive."

"No, that's fine. You can say more if you'd like. Joking in a serious situation is sometimes a good escape from it all."

I look at Saint, somehow grateful and angry that he told me this. My disgust for this world and the people in it grow, but I now have more goals in life.

"Once I'm cured, I'll go find my family and Kane." I say, unsure about why I am telling Saint my plans. Perhaps I've grown to trust him. "I'll kill the Purus members in the meantime, and I need to find out what my dad is doing to help. You should be careful, too. I plan to kill you."

Surprisingly, Saint smiles as I run my plans through him as if he is a living notebook. I'm not sure what to think of his smile. Perhaps he doesn't think I'm serious. Honestly, I wouldn't think so too. If only he felt my pain; then he'd know I mean what I say.

"As you should, Willow."

I look at him in confusion. Maybe he agrees with my plans up until the part where he must die. That, or he agrees with his death too. He could feel guilty for leaving my family behind, or there are more serious things I still do not know about him.

"You need to trust me now, Willow. Even if it doesn't last." Saint says, standing up and walking to the door dividing the driver from the passangers.

He knocks on the door, and a female steps out to meet him. I can't make out what he says to the lady, but she looks over to me as Saint points in my direction. I smile politely at her, but the lady turns away quickly, seeming frightened. Saint walks back to me, and I feel the bus slow down, moving to the furthest lane on the right and coming to a complete stop as Saint reaches me.

I look up at Saint but say nothing as he sticks his hand out to me. He helps me up, and we walk out of the bus. I take note of the eyes watching as we leave, but Saint pays no attention to them. We exit the bus and walk towards the bridge barrier— the wall built to prevent vehicles from falling over the side of the road and falling into the lake.

"The drivers know about your condition. I told them you just need air and should be good soon."

"Why did you do that?"

"I'm giving you a choice, Willow; a choice between being a lab rat or living your life in another country. You can go somewhere without Kin Acts or Merit Acts or any of these laws we have here."

I open my mouth to speak, but Saint interrupts me.

"Don't say anything yet. There's something you need to hear before you decide. I have a house near the shore of the lake, and what you need to hear is in there. Right now, you just need to know how to swim."

Before I can say anything, Saint climbs on top of the bridge barrier and jumps into the lake. The drivers and security that were in the bus now step out.

"Do not move!" A security guard screams out to me as I stand with my hands held in the air.

I look to the lake and see Saint's head pop out of the water. Perhaps I have grown to trust him, because I climb over the wall and jump, ignoring the shouts fading behind me.