The streetlights through the windshield reflect off Atlas’s eyes. They illuminate his pain, desperation, and resolve. Then he turns the wheel and heads down a street two blocks over from mine.

“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”

“Someone was watching my house today.”

“Of course they are.” He pulls next to the curb and cuts the engine.

The matter-of-fact way he says it, as if it isn’t any big deal, freaks me out more than almost anything else I’ve heard tonight. Maybe because the men in the car and the threat they might pose feel tangible. The rest . . . I’m still working on. “So what do I do?”

“Cut through the yards. Hop over the fence behind your house. Go in through the back. Act like things are normal even when you know they aren’t. Trust me, that’s not as easy as it sounds.” Atlas shifts in his seat to face me. “One wrong word could alert the Marshals that you’re working with us.”

“Then why?” I ask quietly.

“Why what?”

“Why did you bring me home instead of keeping me at the Lyceum, where you could make sure I didn’t screw things up?”

His eyes stare out the window at the sky that is beginning to streak with a pale, pink light. “I didn’t tell you the rules before showing you the Lyceum. I didn’t give you that choice. The Stewards are about restoring choices, not taking them away. Besides—” He turns to meet my eyes. “I made a promise, and I don’t break them. Give me your phone number.”

“What?”

“I need your number so I can contact you. Just because I’m bringing you home doesn’t mean you’re done. You climbed on, and you don’t get to jump off until this train comes to a stop.” He punches the numbers I recite onto the screen of his phone, then slides it back into his pocket. “There’s a lot for you to learn before the rails go red. Once that happens, you and all the Stewards who aren’t on lockdown will be on your own until the Engineers deem it safe to open the doors again. The last lockdown lasted years. Anyone who screws up won’t be around by the time it’s over. I’m not going to let that be you. So don’t talk to anyone you don’t have to or leave your house until you hear from me. Okay?”

I’m still not sure what I believe, but I say, “Yeah. Okay.”

That must have been what he wanted to hear, since Atlas leans over and reaches across me—his arm brushing my shoulder as he grabs the door handle and shoves it open. “Get some sleep. Read. Then think about what you knew before you saw the word ‘verify’ and what you know now. That should keep you busy until I can get back to do the Conductor thing with you.”

The trembling of my legs and the floating fog weaving through my thoughts tell me I need sleep more than just about anything. Still, I don’t move when Atlas sits back in the driver’s seat.