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The day before Brendan is set to leave Harmony, I notice Thomas’s chair is empty. Trying to ignore the way my heart seems to be revving up, I slowly walk over to where his intervention is sitting. “Where’s Thomas?” I ask. The early evening hour is warm, with a gentle breeze, a perfect time for him to be sitting outside in his chair.

The man looks up at me for a moment. “Why do you ask?”

I kick at a stone and try to act like a bored kid who’s no threat to anybody. “I know some string tricks, like Cat’s Cradle. I wanted to show him.”

The man shrugs. “Well, you’re going to have to show someone else today. Thomas isn’t coming out tonight, not with how agitated he’s been.”

“Agitated?”

The man nods. “Yes. He’s been hitting himself in the head over and over. He’s had to wear his helmet almost twenty-four hours a day.”

“Oh.” My stomach starts to tighten and I’m afraid I might throw up. The only thing worse than me knowing that Thomas’s End Date approaches is the idea Thomas somehow knows. Could that even be possible? Could the professionals around him have talked too openly in his presence, assuming he was nothing more than a piece of furniture

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

You could be happy here, I could take care of you. I wouldn’t let anybody hurt you. We could grow up together.

—Melissa Mathison

At the end
of Evening Walk I signal to Jessie that I need to talk to her. Ten minutes later we meet in the washroom, brushing our teeth next to each other. Right now we’re alone, but that could change at any moment.

“We’ve got to do something to save Thomas,” I whisper, trying to work my words around a mouth full of toothpaste and my sluggish tongue.

Jessie spits, rinses her mouth with water, then spits again. “We’ve already got it covered,” she whispers back. “On his way to INFP tomorrow, Brendan is going to break out during the ride back and find his way to Thomas’s parents’ house to let them know what’s going on.”

“Brendan is going to break out, instead of getting back to INFP and be safe again?” The girl standing in front of another sink looks my way and I realize my voice is much too loud. “But why would he do that just for one kid? And how?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Jessie says, turning on the taps at full force and wetting her face cloth. “The main thing to know is he’s going to talk to the Becks. They need to know what’s happening.”

“But what if they already know?” I whisper, the image of my father and James entering my mind. “I mean, what if they’re okay with their Autistic son getting Ended?”

Jessie shakes her head vigorously. “You don’t know the Becks. I heard they used to come visit Thomas every weekend until Visitor Days were stopped for kids in Full.”

Another girl walks into the washroom, towel in hand. Jessie covers her face with the cloth and starts rubbing, our talk clearly over. I pick up my toothbrush and walk out of the washroom, hoping against hope Jessie is right.

gh

The next afternoon, I spot Thomas with his string in his regular spot, his face turned up to the sun.

“Thomas, it’s me, Sophie,” I whisper, putting all of my effort into speaking normally.“I just want you to know you’re going to be safe, you’re going to be okay, that we won’t let anything happen to you.”

Thomas groans. He groans louder when I begin to step away. I move closer once more and he leans his head towards me, resting it for a moment against my side. The gesture is so unexpected that my eyes fill with tears. I gently touch his helmet with my hand, not sure if he can even feel it.

“I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” I whisper.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?

—Philip Van Doren Stern

As I’m walking
to the cafeteria for breakfast a few days later, I spot Marcus watching me out of the corner of my eye. I lift up my hand to wave, but it feels too heavy, so I put it down again.
Stupid injection
. The next morning I notice Marcus looking at me again, but my brain feels too fuzzy to think any more about it. On the third morning as I’m entering the cafeteria, Marcus lopes over to me and touches me on the shoulder.

I turn my head slowly towards him, confused.
Have I done something wrong
?

“You’re so doped up it’s ridiculous,” he mutters, shaking his head. “We’re going to sort this out with your interventionist right now.”

“I want to eat,” I say, speaking around my fat tongue. “It helps clear my head.”

“I’ll bring her to you after breakfast. Just don’t leave the cafeteria. It’s Holly, right?”

I nod and go to the breakfast line. Within minutes I begin to wonder if my conversation with Marcus was some sort of drug-induced hallucination. Why would he suddenly start to care about me? I focus on eating my oatmeal without taking an hour to do it. Once I’m almost done, I see Marcus and Holly coming my way.

Once they reach my table, I wait for someone to speak. Marcus looks at Holly, who looks back at him tentatively. “Marcus heard you talking before breakfast and you were supposedly slurring your words a lot.”

“And she was walking as if she had cement blocks tied to her feet. Not so good,” Marcus says. He stares at me, as if trying to give me some sort of a signal.

My thoughts are more focused on getting in that last spoonful of oatmeal, but I nod at him, confused.

“It seems Marcus is concerned your anti-psychotic dosage may be too high for someone your size.”

“She’s just a little twirp,” he says. “My guess is you could halve her dose and it would still work. She isn’t acting manic anymore, is she?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Holly says, her words lined with doubt. “I haven’t noticed any mania and the night monitors haven’t reported any problems either.”

Holly frowns at Marcus, who flashes her a broad smile. To my surprise, Holly smiles back, suddenly looking ten years younger than I had thought. I look from her to Marcus, then back to Holly again, watching her hand as it flutters to her shirt. Even through the molasses that’s become my brain I can see she’s falling for him. If this whole situation I’m in weren’t so serious I’d laugh.

“So you really think I should try lowering the dose?” she asks.

“Well, what would the harm be if you gave her less meds?” Marcus asks.

“I suppose there’d be none, although I should probably get Dr. Anders’ permission first.”

“You want to bother the Head with something as minor as a dosage reduction?” Marcus asks. “Look, I wouldn’t even be asking you this, but I know what an expert interventionist you are, and that you’d be able to calibrate a correct dosage with no problem whatsoever.” Marcus looks directly at Holly and I realize how he’s working her because I can almost feel her whole body melt.

She frowns once more, then sighs. “Okay,” she says, finally. “We’ll try it. But if there are any signs of agitation, the meds go back up. Got it?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

Holly then walks down the hall, her spine straight. I look at Marcus. “Why did you do that?” I ask, my words coming out slowly. “I thought you hated me.”

He looks around the emptying cafeteria before answering. “Since you and I talked, I’ve done a lot of thinking. I used to see saving your brother’s life as a one-time thing, my one instance of true goodness. Now I see things differently. Either you’re an ethical person who’s going to try and help when faced with evil and corruption or you’re not. Seeing a twelve-year-old child stumbling around, all doped up, made me realize which type of person I’m meant to be.” He then looks directly into my eyes and winks. “And you have a way of getting under someone’s skin.”

I smile at him, more at the realization that I have an ally in this man than at the idea of being less drugged. Whether I act like a zombie or not, I now know I can count on Marcus. In a place like this, that means everything.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The honour code is a living thing. It cannot exist in a vacuum.

—Dick Wolf

The Becks arrive
at Harmony a few days later without any notice. Jessie rushes into the shower room during my designated wash time to tell me the news. I quickly dry myself off and pull on my jogging suit, before leaving the room to search for Marcus.

I find him walking towards the Relaxation Training room with a group of kids from Full and grab him by the arm. “They’re here!” I whisper, breathless. “The Becks are here!”

Marcus nods at me. “Hearing what Dr. Anders tells those parents could be essential if we want to find out exactly what’s going on around here. Someone needs to be in that room, and be in that room now!”

“But won’t it seem suspicious if you’re there?” I ask.

Marcus shakes his head. “I’d be like an elephant in the room. Being small is in your favour right now.” He pauses. “You’re supposed to be with Holly soon, right? After I get these guys with the Relaxation trainer I’ll go distract her, while you try and get to the main office.”

“But how?”

Marcus looks me directly in the eyes. “I wish I could tell you, but I really don’t know. Just remember if it seems too risky, don’t do it. They’ll be other chances to get information.” I nod, then walk quickly in the other direction, trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible. Luckily, the hallway toward the main office is empty. I see the receptionist at her desk, like always, but her back in turned. Without any time to figure out a better plan, I crawl across the floor and hide behind the half-open door to Dr. Anders’ office. If someone closes that door, I’m screwed.

Within minutes, a man and a woman come striding into the reception area, then head straight into Dr. Anders’ office without knocking.
The Becks
. Lucky for me, they leave the door open behind them.

“Is there a problem?” Dr. Anders asks, his voice booming.

“Yes, in fact, there is,” Thomas’s mother says. “We’ve come to take our child home from…this place, and have been informed by his interventionist that this is not possible. I assume you will set things straight immediately.”

“And who is your child?”

“My child is Thomas Beck. He has been staying at Harmony for treatment for the last four years.”

“The last four years! Good, good! I imagine that he must have benefited from such a lengthy intervention—”

“As a matter of fact, Dr. Anders, he has not. He has not benefited at all. If anything, his condition has deteriorated.”

“I see. And what is his condition, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

“He has Autism, Dr. Anders.” Her voice is like a steel blade, ready to cut through anything at a moment’s notice.

“Is he verbal?”

“No.”

“Does he communicate in any manner?”

“Not in a traditional sense.”

“I see! Well, does he communicate in a non-traditional sense, then, Ms. Beck?”

“Our son shows affection to us in his own unique way. We’re able to understand what he wants better than anyone else.”

“And yet you sent him to Harmony?”

“We were strongly encouraged to send him to Harmony,” Thomas’s mother says. “At the time I was recovering from surgery and we still had two younger children living with us. It seemed like a sensible decision at the time.”

“But now?”

“Now our other children are living most of the year at their Home Schools and I am healthy once more. We feel Thomas will benefit most by living with us.” This time it’s a male voice talking, clearly Thomas’s father.

“Well, that’s where you and I must beg to differ, Mr. and Ms. Beck. It is my firm opinion that an Autistic child deserves nothing less than the best intervention protocols that we have at our disposal. Both Harmony and later Serenity can offer your son care that you will be incapable of, despite your obvious love.”

The knot in my stomach tightens more. What if they can’t get Thomas out in time? What then?

“With all due respect, Dr. Anders, my husband and I did not ask you for your opinion.”

I gasp, shocked and pleased that mothers do exist who can display such courage, such bravery.

“Be that as it may, I’m afraid my answer is no.”

“Dr. Anders, we are not leaving here without our son.” This time it’s Mr. Beck again. “When Thomas was diagnosed with Autism, my wife and I both followed Regulations and immediately underwent the Procedure, guaranteeing that we would not have any more children. When told to do so, we allowed him to be sent here, despite wanting to keep him home with us. But now we are here to take our son back with us. There is nothing in Regulations to state we cannot, and in fact, there are several statements in The Parental Handbook to state we can.” I hear him inhale. “If we have to take this up with some of the Heads, believe me, we will.”

For a few seconds there is silence. I try to hold my breath, afraid if I exhale someone might hear me.

“Your son will be ready to leave in half an hour. I assume this brief delay is reasonable to you?”

“Yes, thank you, Dr. Anders,” Ms. Beck says.

Suddenly the office door opens all the way and they walk into the hall. The mother spots me and I quickly lift my hair to reveal the happy face, hoping she’ll know what that symbolizes. She smiles and nods and I nod back. Before she turns back to her husband, I notice her face looks just like someone I’ve grown to care deeply about, and that in her is the embodiment of Thomas.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

You can’t win. You know that, don’t you? It doesn’t matter if you whip us, you’ll still be where you were before, at the bottom.

—S.E. Hinton

“Bad news,” Jessie
whispers to me as we stand in line for Relaxation Group. “There’s a rumour going around that the Progress Meeting might not take place at our Harmony after all.”

“Not take place here? Why not?”

Jessie shrugs. “I guess the number of kids who have escaped from here is way higher than for the other Harmonies. I mean, there was you, Taylor, and Meg all in one night, with only you returned. And then Brendan broke out just last week while being transported back to his Home School. Supposedly most of the other Harmonies rarely have any runaways at all. I guess for most kids, getting sent here scares them enough not to risk doing anything stupid. Now Harmony Five is on The Association’s radar. That could mean trouble.”