I won’t accept that answer. “What if I cut a hole in the fence? At night?”

Kit blinked. “A hole. To let us out through the fence. Maybe…maybe. Our two buildings are next to the fence. If we could crawl out through the fence behind the buildings, we’d only have to dodge one patrolling sentry.”

“Okay, then. One hole coming up. When?” Frankie hesitated. “I need time to figure out how to get to the right place.” Her courage vacillated. That area was all forest.

“Frankie, this isn’t safe for you. You could—”

“When, Kit?”

“Ahhh, it needs to be a Saturday—that’s when Obadiah drives the captain and other lieutenants into town for drinks. There’ll be fewer guards, and with the Captain gone, they get lax on their rounds. Today’s Thursday. So not this Saturday.”

“Okay.”

Kit’s wry expression held some of her old spirit. “I’m afraid the forest doesn’t have street signs. You’ll need to figure out how to get to the compound…at night. Maybe a week from this Saturday? As soon as it’s full dark?”

“Yes.” Frankie whipped out her phone. “Saturday, May eleventh. Full dark.” Full dark didn’t occur until late at night. She’d have to take that into her calculations. “If something happens, either on my part or yours, is there a way to make contact?”

“No. Only the Prophet and Nabera have phones.”

“Stronzi,” Frankie hissed. “Fine, if something happens, we’ll rain check until the next Saturday…until the time it all comes together.”

Relief filled Kit’s face even as her brows drew together. “It’s not safe for you. Frankie, I don’t even know how long I’ll be here. Obadiah plans to take us back to Texas sometime this summer.”

Just then the grocery door opened.

Even as Kit turned, Frankie shot her a look—We have a plan—then strolled away down the street as if that’s what she’d been doing all along. All she wanted was to confront those PZs. Hit them and show them what it felt like to be beaten-up.

Swearing under her breath, she circled the block and returned to Dante’s Grocery.

The PZs were gone.

Still tied up, the pretty brown dog stood and wagged its tail.

“Aren’t you a sweetie.” Frankie held her hand out. She’d never had a pet, but quite a few of her friends had pets—usually apartment-sized ones. “I’m Frankie, and I’m friendly, too.”

After a good sniff, the dog thrust its head under her hand.

She laughed. “All right then.”

Seeing a few healing gashes on his ears, paws, and muzzle, she stroked him carefully, avoiding anything that might be sore. “Whatever you’ve been doing, you need to be more careful, okay? Now, I need to get my groceries before everything melts. It was nice to meet you.”

She got a dog-smile in return.