“We don’t believe in possessions,” he said. He was silent. He stood and slapped the cow on her rump. “I may still miss you while I’m gone.”

I nodded, trying not to smile. And he grabbed the short hair at the nape of my neck, pulled my head back, lifted the pail, and tipped the milk into my mouth.

* * *

We sang that evening. I called “Ragan.” I didn’t need to look at the words. I hoped Dice understood what I was trying to communicate: take me with you, you can trust me.

Farewell, vain world, I’m going home,

I belong to this band, hallelujah.

My savior smiles and bids me come

I belong to this band, hallelujah.

After the last note faded, Dice made his way to the center. He said, “Tomorrow we’ll aim for sabotage.” The family laughed uproariously, joyously, and I did too, even though he hadn’t said anything funny. He asked, “What can an action do?” He said an action can do five things: disrupt a harmful thing, send a message to the public, show our enemies that we exist, express ourselves, or let us live differently for a while. We nodded our heads and shouted yes! each time.

I caught up with him as he walked to his room. “Dice!” I called. He ignored me. I grabbed his blue sleeve.

He brought both his arms high above his head, as if he might try to hit me. I watched him warily, the way the little owl had watched me. But he was only stretching, getting out the crick in his neck.

“I wanted to see if I could come tomorrow,” I said.

“Did that visitor boy call you by a different name?” he said.

All I could hear was my heart in my ears. “Of course not,” I said.

“A fruit, was it?” he said. “Apple? Or was it Berry?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. Despite our matching tattoos, I felt it was impossible for them to be certain that Isaac was my friend from Durham. Terrific, Bay had said. Perfect. That had put me at ease. I’d later learn that Bay had known, and Isaac had been coerced into a confession during that car ride. And if Bay knew, Dice knew; that was how the family worked. But in the moment I was focused on lying, and felt I’d been convincing, because Dice smiled.

Dice stepped closer to me. He smelled just like Isaac. “You can’t come, my dear. If you were a little more open, you would see why.”

“Wait,” I said. “Do you think I’ll ever be open enough?”

“Someday,” he said, which was all I needed.

* * *

In the morning, I woke to see Bay’s car and the maroon car that had been Pear’s idling in the courtyard, exhaust flaring around them.