“We’ll put some sheets on it, of course,” I said. Though I didn’t love Lindsay, I wanted her to love us, to confirm that the family was perfect. I remembered the power coming off the family at breakfast my first day. We lived the right way on the earth, we were essential. I wanted her to see it.

Lindsay nodded. “But I’m just wondering—are there other options?”

“All the newcomers stay here,” I said. I smiled through my annoyance. I remembered Sara asking me if I was cold my first day. How foolish I had been to complain. How foolish Lindsay was to complain now.

Queen stood back, to see how I handled things, I guessed. I tried to imagine what Pear would say, what Sara would say. “Try opening your mind . . . ,” I said, trailing off, searching for words that would convince her. “I mean, lots of things here will seem different, but that’s intentional . . .”

“Lindsay, it’s all right,” Queen said, finally. “You can sleep in the dining room, in front of the fireplace. How does that sound?”

Lindsay thanked her but not as vigorously as she should have. “There’ll be a place for Roger there too?”

“If he’d like,” Queen said.

I’d never seen anyone sleep in the dining room before.

After dinner, Sara and Queen set up a mattress on the large clean stones in front of the fireplace. But Roger asked to return to the loft. He beamed as Gemini handed him a pillowcase to bring out to the barn.

* * *

The next day Sara told me to bring Lindsay out with the sheep. “She just barged into Dice’s room,” Sara said, rubbing the back of her head. “We want her out of the house for the day, so she won’t go wandering around.” For the first time, I felt she was including me in secret knowledge. Maybe she had noticed how I was trying harder. Maybe she felt she could trust me, finally, by comparison to the newcomers—maybe I was a step closer to coming to the next action.

“I heard there might be another protest soon,” I said. I was testing my luck. “Can I come this time?”

She regarded me, unsurprised. “Patience, Harmony.”

I felt my face get hot with shame. I didn’t know what else I could do to prove myself. It was unwelcome to wish, for a moment, for the clarity of high-jumping, the pole rising up inch by inch to meet my flailing heels.

“Go on,” Sara said. “Go take Lindsay out with the sheep.”

* * *

As soon as I lifted my hand, the sheep turned toward me to head their well-worn way uphill. Lindsay had to jog to catch up with us.

She asked breathlessly, “Do they always follow so well?”

“They know me,” I said. “If you tried, they’d probably all scatter.”

“How far are we taking them?”

“Miles, probably.”