I dragged the troll to the cleaning closet when my shift ended. Every muscle in my body ached and my head felt as if it were stuffed with wet towels. I wanted to find a warm spot and sleep, but Riley worked the odd-hour shift and I needed to climb to our room.

Our room. I stifled a laugh. Riley’s name, not mine for where we met. The trip was a hard slog. Bluelight from the room shone through the vents and, after checking for ambushes, I dropped to the couch. White daylights switched on. My tired brain connected the dots and linked the motion sensor with Riley’s precognitive knowledge of my arrival. Too bad. I liked his explanation better.

After scanning the room, the only change of note was the presence of Mama Sheepy. A twin of Sheepy except for her larger size. He rested in the space under her belly and between her legs, protected and safe. Mama Sheepy’s wool was flat in the middle as if she had been used as a pillow. An image of a young Riley with his black hair mussed, sleeping on Mama while clutching Sheepy formed in my head. I braced for a stab of jealousy, but I couldn’t produce the emotion. Instead, I kept the pleasant image in my mind as I carried the sheep family to the couch.

Squirming into a comfortable position, I waited for Riley. I played with the sheep. Not caring that I had lost it and gone soft. Not caring about Gateway. Not caring about what might happen the rest of the week. I enjoyed the moment.

“Trella.”

His voice pierced the bubble of my dream. Cold reality replaced the feelings of warmth and safety. I blinked awake. Luckily Riley hovered over me and not a Pop Cop. Falling asleep up here was deadly. I wanted to blame the couch, but knew my erratic snatches of sleep were to blame.

He straightened with a smile on his face. “Sheepy told me to let you alone, but I only have thirty minutes.”

His stuffed toys were still clutched in my hands. I sat and placed them on the cushion next to me. Riley settled on the opposite end. I smoothed my hair and wondered how long he had been here before waking me.

“I’ve been searching for a computer terminal, but every one up here is either in constant use or located in a populated area. The only option left is for you to use the terminal in my room.” He held up a hand, stopping my protests. “My father works even shifts. You can come during the next one.”

“What about the rest of your family?”

An odd half-flinch creased his face for a second. “He’s all I have, so no problem there.”

“What happens if the Controllers find out we used your computer?”

“As long as you don’t use my port, there is no way to prove I’m involved.”

“It’s still a big risk.”

“So is this.” Riley gestured to me and him.