When my siblings are released, they remain in a tight circle around me, warily eyeing the officers and glancing at Momma for cues that don’t come. Pol takes a half step toward her, but stops as he realizes the president is still at her side. Lyre stays pressed close against me. Even Drom hesitates, her usual confidence gone in the face of such a strange situation. None of us are sure what to make of this.

“So…” I glance at the president. It’s hard to look her in the face, after years of seeing pictures and videos. If Leonis had been in charge when I was here as a child, I probably wouldn’t have survived. Since she came into power, she’s enacted laws that made it illegal to help an off-worlder under any circumstances. I’ve heard stories of children dying on the streets begging for a sip of water. Gaians try to hush such tales, but I know in my heart that they’re true. That’s why I force myself to look at her. I want her to look into the eyes of someone she doesn’t consider human enough to save, and let her see part of herself mirrored back. I take a deep breath before speaking, ensuring that my voice is steady. “We free to go, then?”

The president meets my gaze for the first time, and smiles. It’s a small, tight motion that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“This never happened,” she says, once again somehow managing to sound conversational and threatening at the same time. She pauses. “As long as you disappear from my planet within the next hour, that is.”

Momma clears her throat and jerks her head at us.

“You heard her,” she says. “Back to the ship.”

I stop on the threshold of the cargo bay. I had anticipated the space to be left empty after our last unloading, a reminder of everything we lost in this botched job—but instead, the bay holds five small, new crates. They’re not our usual variety, either. These are highly polished steel containers with passcode entry pads, the kind meant for holding something expensive and probably volatile.

While I was busy getting arrested—twice—it looks like Momma was busy as well. And this confirms my suspicions. Leonis didn’t pardon us out of the goodness of her heart. Momma made a deal. And while I’ve taken all sorts of morally questionable, highly criminal jobs in the past, this one turns my stomach in a way those never have. The others felt like necessity. This one seems like shaking hands with the devil.