My eyes blur. One hand over the mouth, the other clutching my belly, I collapse completely. Tears rush behind my closed eyelids. My guilt crushes the complaints that I weakly opposed to Isaac. My responsibility even pushes me to convince myself that by chaining her ankles, I provided the little impulse that made the chair fall.

Nonetheless, the worst of all my crimes was that of leaving my Mistress in the hands of the Grinbergs. Her eyes distraught, bloody, no longer opposing any resistance to our relentless resolutions. I turn my head on the left, feeling the sudden presence of something behind me. I am too scared to accept it, but here she is. By my side, now stands an unpleasant, heavy form, a Form, without Mistress Salvi's attribute, if not her gaze. I read in it that I cannot escape it, never. She will befriend my shadow. She tried to introduce herself when I met Sonia, shyly. That impression of her that I tried to find in Sonia. Now, she has no reason to hide anymore; she sits proudly on top of the piles of sins I carry with me. All her hatred and resentment is pouring on us in her Form, in the shape of a jet of icy stones that hit us unceremoniously.

I pick up my phone, my whole body trembling. I resume the conversation, slowed down by the tears rolling down my cheeks, which I wipe away as I go down through the messages. Throughout the night, I analyze each speaker's word, reconstructing the exchanges as if they had all been by my side. When the first rays of the sun come to reflect on my screen, I am resolved. I rinse my face, and my eyes are dry, the right one even puffier. However, the edema is subsiding, and my skin is regaining its normal color. I get dressed up, taking the clothes that I arrived in from my bag. Then, I take out my charger and plug in my phone. I make the bed and arrange the room before going out. In the hallway, Celeste, littered on a ladder, is manipulating a small device.

"Hello, Kanoa. Miss Freeman is having breakfast in the living room."

I enter the kitchen and am greeted by the mournful look of my Mistress. Her smile, much less radiant than the previous days, quickly gives way to an exaggerated grimace.

"Why are you wearing these clothes?"

"I... I-I..."

I had everything prepared in my head. The way that I am going to tell her about Mistress Salvi and how she was killed. Nevertheless, facing her gaze, I lose my means. It is not just her who is looking at me. There is also the Form, which stands right behind my Mistress. She is counting on me, and she is waiting for my confession.

Mistress Freeman stares at me insistently, waiting for my answer, before the expression on her face changes radically.

"This is for our excursion of today! You're right; we'll pass the barrier of Freetown more discreetly!"

I have forgotten my commitments to her and her documentary. She is the one who must report me and hand me over to the police. In my plan, she has to play this role. However, with this delay, she is offering me an opportunity to say goodbye to my people and family.

"It is only a postponement," I try to convey to the Form who is gone again. I am not shying away. By the end of this day, I will be shedding the weight off my shoulders.

Mistress Freeman increases the volume of the television. CNN is again talking about the series of slave killings shaking the Freetown of Minneapolis City. My little bruised ego assumes: "Death follows me everywhere."

"We need to get the camera ready; I'll try to find an excuse to leave before this afternoon. Hide it in your bag."

"Can I ask for your permission to telephone Mistress?"

"Of course! And stop asking me such..."

I quickly go to my room. Celeste is no longer in the corridor. I confusedly search among my favorite contacts that of Ho-Jin, instead of calling him back directly. I dread a little to talk to him again. We almost left each other on a quarrel, and we are about to have the most difficult conversation of our lives. He picks up immediately.

"Kanoa!" he says, panting.

"Ho-Jin. Brother."

My voice breaks over the word "brother."

"We are leaving, Kanoa! Isaac arranged everything ! We have to go before..."

"I am sorry. I can never live with that."

A little silence sets in, then he sighs.

"Kanoa, let me come and see you. We cannot talk about it on the phone."

I hear in the background that he is being called.

"If you intend to surrender, I will do the same. I will follow you too. Imane will lose his two brothers, and dad his two sons."

He hangs up. I fall back on the bed, weary. It was apparent that Ho-Jin would never let me act without saying anything, but what he is proposing is unacceptable. What he threatens to do is unimaginable. I hoped that my brother would go in my direction without really believing it. I have not yet planned an alternative in case he refuses. However, his reaction did not surprise me. Other slaves in our place would have rejoiced in our actions, congratulated us, and tried to portray our regrets as madness. Mohamed raised us, and we were sensitive to his teachings; we could not help it. What Isaac calls hypocritical morality is our burden left by our father. It was to prevent us from finding ourselves in situations like the one that we are in now. Since it is too late for regrets, there is only one possible way: to accept our responsibilities.

So, Ho-Jin's reaction does not dent my resolve. My hands are temporarily tied. I have to find a way to incriminate myself and make it impossible for him.

"We're going shopping," Mistress Sky proclaims, as she enters the room, looking triumphant. "You're ready?" she asks, adding a wink.

I quickly stuff my phone in my pocket.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes. Some family business," I felt the need to add.

"I understand," she says pensively. "I hope it all will be fine."

Her hand brushes my shoulder, and once again, she encases us in the present. I feel a wave of heat, soft, and pleasant come to chase the bricks of ice in which I bathe. I pull back quickly, my feelings, like a raw wound, superficially heightened.

"We should go."

Mistress Freeman asks me a few questions during the first part of the journey. Faced with the short and confusing answers that I give her, she ends up annoyed, keeping quiet, and does not say anything more until the moment that we found ourselves on the subway. I could not have made a conversation with her without risking compromising my family. Still, above all, I was to focus looking for the Form of Mistress Salvi, or the police, at every crossroads. I walk in front of Misstress Freeman, quickly at first, as my paranoid ideas suggest. Then I slow down when the sound of the crutch hitting the sidewalk fades away.

On weekdays, Activists are less inclined to guard the barrier. I take advantage of a breach in a small perpendicular street to access the heart of Freetown. I watch for Mistress Freeman's reactions.

"I do not know how to tell you that, but... avoid staring at inhabitants like you do at buildings. Not all slaves... tolerate the presence of Masters here."

"Sorry," she stammers.

"It is necessary to walk quickly to my father's office; then, we will be more tranquil."

She nods uncomfortably. When we step through the doors, I have the impression of seeing Karen. I let go of the handle, which almost knocked Mistress Freeman down. However, once I arrive at her side, the young woman chases me away with a wave of her hand.

"What's going on, Kanoa?" Mistress Freeman launches in my direction. "You scared me!"

"I thought that it was a person who could help us. Come in," I say, holding the door.

Mohamed is in discussion with Mayor Gokongwei in the middle of the hall. His face turns pale when he sees me. Mayor Gokongwei moves around, quickly gauges me, and is about to leave when her eyes fall on Mistress Freeman.

"Excuse me, miss... I'm sorry to ask you that, but are you somehow related to James or Agatha Freeman?"

My dad keeps staring at me.

"It is their daughter, my Mistress Sky Freeman. She came to see you as she needs to collect some photos for a campaign that she would like to submit to her parents. She is counting on our discretion for the moment."

I can feel Mistress Freeman's heavy look of reproaches, but she has nothing to object.

"It's amazing! I see that this rebellious spirit is a family trait. There was a time when Mohamed and I were good friends with your parents!"

"It is a pleasure to meet you," my father says, offering his hand.

She grabs it, a little impressed. She told me about the admiration that she had for him during our preparations, him who went further than any other Activist.

"I think I have some pictures that might fit what you need in a drawer in my desk. I apologize; we're on the move, you know. And above all, I did not expect to receive a guest of your rank," Mayor Gokongwei recites, taking Mistress Freeman's other hand.

"You're coming with us, Kanoa?"

It is an order disguised behind a tensed smile. I feel like exploding, seeing my Mistress struggle with the discomfort which I experience daily. The sparkle in her eyes dances vividly, oscillating between joy and anger.

"I will need his help to look, on my side, for more images that you could use. I will send him to you right away." Mohamed intervenes.