“You won’t. I’m more worried someone might recognize you.”

“But doesn’t being a Disconnect mean no technology? How would anyone even know about me?”

“We may live off the grid, but it’s important we’re aware of what’s going on in the world. At Keystone, we’re a special legion of Disconnects. Our mission is to steal analog history—to preserve the truth—before corporations and the government can alter the past to benefit their personal futures. We’re in danger of entering a Digital Dark Age, where the only information available is digital. Tape recordings, printed books, films, photographs—proof of history—are decaying and becoming scarce. Digital information is easy to tamper with, and there are forces at work that want current society to reflect their version of the past.” She sips her tea before continuing.

“Often, we’re after priceless works that are protected by the latest technology, so we have to understand tech even though we don’t use it ourselves. We have internet access in the Crypt—that’s our code-breaking library—and the TMI-feed is likely a guilty pleasure for some of the girls. They watch the Networks—they have to. For your Initiation Heist, you’ll be asked to go under cover in Influencer society, and you’ll need to know how to fit in—and how to hide in plain sight.”

“Initiation Heist?” I almost choke on my tea, the cup rattling in my trembling hands at having to reenter society.

“It’s the final test before becoming a full-fledged Keystone member with access to our top-level secrets, but don’t worry,” Allard says. “You’ll have plenty of time to learn our ways—and you’ll participate in a heist as an assistant to an Initiate—before you’re asked to lead a heist the following year.”

“Lead a heist?” My eyes bulge. “Right.”

Pressing her lips together, she represses a smile. “We won’t make you do anything you aren’t prepared for. Though, with your exceptional intuition, I suspect you’ll learn quickly.”

“No pressure,” I mutter, inhaling lavender, processing the enormity of what she’s telling me.

She laughs. “As you can imagine, invisibility is essential to being a thief. We don’t use technology because we don’t want to be tracked,” she continues. “We may shun the Networks and refuse to be ranked, but we’re not like Unrankables. They aren’t allowed to rank, while we choose not to rank.”

Unrankable. The word is quicksand in my mind. The worthless, greedy, lowest of the low. The unemployed, unmotivated poor who live off our handouts. My face must betray the prejudices so ingrained in me, because Allard straightens, a sad frown forming on her lips.

“I didn’t know that,” I admit, setting my tea on a shelf and sinking back into the tub. “I’ve always lumped Disconnects and Unrankables together. My parents taught me Index ranking is everything. If you don’t rank, you don’t matter.”

“This is a lot for you to get used to,” she says.

“It is…” I shake my head. “My mom used to say, ‘For you to matter, somebody has to be talking about you, eavesdropping on you—spying. Your worth is measured by your number of followers, your Index trade amount, your engagement rate. If nobody’s watching, nobody cares.’ It sucked, but I’ve lived and breathed my numbers forever. Who am I without them?”