Zach sighs. “Choose good.”

There’s one more floor for Lynell to explore. It’s mostly offices and a locked security room. Lynell peers through the little window in the door to glimpse some screens showing the front of the house, the yard, the dining room, and the staircase. She’s sure there are a dozen more screens showing every inch of the house. Probably even her bedroom.

There are two doors that seem to go to stairwells, but both are locked. Lynell returns upstairs and heads to the backyard, which is huge and surrounded by a tall fence. Four more guards stand watch, and Lynell gives each a nod.

The dress hugs her legs as she walks, wind making the fabric dance. Green grass folds under her feet and the sun licks her skin. She wishes she could feel its promise of life. But she can only think of her death.

Fake letter. He finds out and tortures the real one out of her. Death.

Real letter. He doesn’t need her anymore and she’s a threat whether or not she denounces her claim. Death.

No letter. Death. Probably a very painful death.

Choose good. Never done that. She’s always chosen fear. Done whatever it took to save her own skin. Even with Daniel, she could never fully let go of the fear that he might hurt her. And all too easily she gave in to the fear that she would hurt him. She sacrificed something beautiful so she could keep gripping the fear close to her chest.

The only words her father ever spoke to her were in that letter. Somehow, she doesn’t think he would want her to give Eric anything.

You are strong, kind, joyful, wise, and so full of patience. Never lose that.

Lynell turns her face up to the sun and knows what she has to do. It’s not just her own life at stake anymore. That code in the wrong hands could destroy the country. Even if Eric finds a way to use it without destroying the Registration, he could change so much. The Registration her grandfather created to give every citizen the opportunity for equal power would be unrecognizable. He could change it to be nothing more than a path for the rich and powerful to legally kill whomever they want. Everyone else would be disposable.

And there are still people Lynell wants to keep safe.

“You didn’t come to dinner.”

Lynell is sitting in her chair by the fire in the parlor. She’s reading an old book she’s never seen before. To Kill a Mockingbird. At the sound of Eric’s voice, ice fills her body.

“I wasn’t hungry,” she says.

His footsteps are quiet on the carpet in the room. He pulls a chair up to the fire and sits next to her.

“I understand this must be difficult,” he says.

“No, you don’t.”

“I’m sorry?”