Terrified, I look for my sister. “Where is she?”

He pulls me into the living room, the wall sealing behind us. Probing spotlights continue to pierce through the windows.

“What is happening?” I ask.

A loud pounding erupts from the front door. “This is the Texas State Guard!” The impatient fist strikes over and over. “Open the door immediately, or we will break it down!”

Father turns to me and quickly says, “Don’t do anything unless I tell you to.”

We’ve practiced this moment in trial drills, yet it’s somehow altogether different when it’s actually happening in real life. My blood feels like it has been set on fire, leaving my limbs with a light, useless sensation.

Father moves to unlock the door, shielding me behind him. I’m grateful—I need a moment to gather myself before the invasion. Oh God, are they here to arrest him?

Calm down. Just breathe.

The door opens with a bang, and a captain flanked by two State Guards burst into the house. They are tall and terrifying in their dark riot gear, the Texas seal reflecting bright on their chests from the spotlights.

“Dr. Darren Goodwin and Ava Goodwin, you have been accused of criminal activity on this property,” the captain formally recites. “Move aside for our inspection.”

Father all but shakes in his fury. “Who authorized this military sweep? I demand to see the warrant.”

My heart stops beating entirely when I hear Governor Roth’s voice. “I don’t require a warrant.”

The soldiers in the doorway part, allowing the governor to stand face-to-face with my father. Fear flashes in his eyes, but dies in an instant.

“Hold out your wrists,” Roth orders.

“Governor, as a respected member of your staff, I ask why a military sweep has been authorized on my home?”

A foreboding pause lingers after the question. The governor wants us to crack under his heavy silence, which presses down on our nerves and gives us time to imagine all the terrible reasons he is here right now.

He turns away from my father.

“I’m not here to give explanations.”

He nods, and the captain takes an aggressive step toward me. “Hold out your wrist,” he commands.

I look apprehensively to Father. Does he want me to comply? This is an odd request, usually only done to identify an unknown person.

“Do not look to your father, girl. Look at me,” the governor snarls, almost foaming at the mouth.

Mira lied. Something else happened in the greenhouse. Roth only has eyes for me.

I step out from behind my father and expose my wrist to the waiting captain. Whatever they are looking for, they won’t find it in my microchip.

The captain scans my chip, and a sharp ping emits from his small device. The governor swiftly examines the information that appears on the screen next to my photo: “Name: Ava Goodwin. Age: 18. Occupation: Student, Strake University. Ration Credits: 5,000. Blood Type: AB+.”

Impatient, he turns away from the device, not bothering to read the rest. With terrorizing swiftness, he bears down on me, blocking me from my father. His soldiers stand behind him, poised and ready. “Is there anyone else in this house?” he demands.

Father makes a move toward me, but the soldiers hold him back. “Governor—”

“It’s just the two of us,” I answer rapidly, setting my features into the very picture of innocent confusion. “I don’t understand. Who else would be here, sir?”

The governor studies me for a long moment, the hallway settling into another suffocating silence.

I stand there paralyzed, unable to breathe.

“Search the house.”

The two soldiers plow through my father, forcing themselves into the living room. All we can do is stand and watch as one soldier begins to shove the furniture over while the other barrels up the stairs to our room. I lift my head to the ceiling, following the deafening trail of footsteps from above.

Are you still up there, Mira?

The remaining soldier lifts up a large rug and sweeps a ground-penetrating radar around the living room floor. The governor looks over the Guard’s shoulder and scowls when the radar detects nothing but solid ground.

“The kitchen,” the governor orders the soldier.

The captain pushes past me through the entranceway to place a small contraption on the front door. A beam of light scans the handle and frame, checking for fingerprints. Our names, Ava Goodwin and Darren Goodwin, hover above the detected prints in little spheres.

“Scan every surface,” the governor orders as he advances to our computer. He inserts a thin strip into the hard drive, and thousands of our private files are copied in an instant.

The captain covers our house with his contraption’s penetrating white light. Tables, windows, stairs, cabinets, floorboards, walls, silverware—every object produces spheres that float around us like someone just wished on a dandelion. Ava Goodwin, Darren Goodwin, Governor Howard Roth, Victoria Roth, Halton Roth, Gwen Meyer.

But not a single petal reveals an unregistered print.

I move closer to my father when a frustrated Governor Roth approaches the space dangerously close to the hidden basement entrance. He presses his ear against the wall, and my nerves suddenly start to fracture.

Using his balled fist as a hammer, he strikes the wall, searching for hollow spaces. Panic floods my mind at the thought of discovery. My legs scream to flee, but I am also consumed with the deranged desire to attack the governor and protect my family. I do neither of these things, however. I simply stand silent next to Father, disciplined by my training.

My hand finds Father’s. Do something, my fingers beg.

“Governor, if you tell me what you are looking for, I can lead you to it without having my house further destroyed,” Father says, advancing toward him.

Distracted, the governor turns around, his hand dropping to his side before he can strike twice. His gaze, filled with unchecked disdain, lands on Father. “If you try to impede this investigation again, I will have my soldiers escort you to the military car in handcuffs, Dr. Goodwin.”

Darren. The governor always honors my father by addressing him by his given name. The leash has been unquestionably cut.

The captain approaches the governor and speaks quietly into his ear. Roth nods, revealing nothing. He scans the house a final time, his cold eyes targeting me.

With the awkward sound of stretched leather, Governor Roth straightens to his full height and walks stiffly to my father. He steps over the broken glass frame that contained the hologram of my mother.

“My men will clean up the mess,” the governor says with no hint of apology.

“That will not be necessary, Governor,” Father says. He opens the front door and stands there firmly, his body language demanding an immediate exit.

“Report to my office in the morning, Dr. Goodwin,” the governor says before slamming the door shut.

I finally exhale and breathe.

Spotlights gone, we are left in darkness.

“Room, lights on—” Father presses his hand over my mouth before I can finish the command.

“The lights must stay off,” he whispers hot in my ear. He grabs his tablet and sends out a signal that spreads across the room like a blue wave. I watch unnerved as it invades every cavity and corner, searching.

“You think they bugged the house?” A heavy ball of terror forms in my stomach.