Chapter 3

I didn't dare look back.

The alleys twisted and forked, and I didn't know the way, so I just ran on instinct.

The Old Town alleys were a maze.

I ducked through more than a dozen of them before the footsteps behind me finally faded out.

I leaned against a wall, chest heaving, my ribs aching like they might split open.

Money really could do anything.

There was no place left for me in this city.

I hid in the alleys until nine in the morning.

The streets were filling up.

I found a public restroom and pulled my hair into a bun.

I dug a black jacket out of my bag and put it on, then splashed cold water on my face.

The face in the mirror was pale, the eyes red.

Nothing like the pampered eldest Fox daughter I used to be.

Good.

If I couldn't recognize myself, no one else would either.

At the corner, I saw a sheet of paper stuck up next to the bus stop.

A missing-person flyer.

With my photo on it.

Taken at my birthday party.

I wore a crown, smiling without a care in the world.

Below the photo there was just one line:

Zoe Fox, eighteen, ran away from home due to depression. Anyone with information please call the number below. Reward: five hundred thousand dollars.

Two older women stood beside it, pointing at the line and talking.

"Such a pretty girl. How did she end up depressed?"

"Her parents must be worried sick. Five hundred thousand, that's real love for their child."

I kept my head down and walked past quickly.

Love for their child.

The corner of my mouth twitched with contempt.

Eighteen years of caring for a lab sample, and now the sample had run off. Of course they were frantic.

I didn't dare take the bus, didn't dare touch my phone, didn't even dare scan a code to buy water.

I had a little over four thousand in cash left.

This couldn't go on.

I had to get out of the city.

The bus station needed an ID card, the train station scanned your face, and the high-speed rail was worse.

I remembered a classmate once mentioning that out by the flea market on the edge of town, there were unlicensed cars that ran long distances.

No ID needed. Pay and go.

I circled two streets over and found a shared bike.

It took more than an hour of riding to reach the flea market.

Sure enough, a few vans were parked along the market's edge, the drivers crouched by the roadside smoking.

I walked over and asked,

"Fairhaven. You going?"

A driver with a beard looked me up and down.

"Just you?"

"Yeah."

"Two hundred."

I pulled out two hundred and handed it to him.

"Leaving now?"

"Two more passengers. Once it's full, we go."

I didn't say anything, just pulled the door open and climbed in.

Two people were already inside.

Migrant workers, from the look of it, clutching bags big and small.

I curled into the seat farthest in, hat on, head down.

Every time someone new got in, my stomach clenched.

After twenty minutes, the driver finally pulled out.

As the van rolled off and the city fell farther and farther behind, I finally let out a breath.

Once I was out of the city, they wouldn't have such an easy time finding me.

Halfway there, the van stopped at a rest area.

I got out to buy water. I'd just twisted off the cap when I heard someone nearby on the phone.

"Yeah, black van, plate 869, headed for Fairhaven. There's a young girl on it, black jacket, hat, matches the one we're looking for pretty close..."

The bottle clattered out of my hand and hit the ground.

Water spilled everywhere.

The man on the phone glanced at me.

I turned and ran for the edge of the rest area.

How did they know I was on this van?

Had they been watching me from the moment I got in?

Or was the unlicensed driver working with them too?

I couldn't let myself think about it.

Behind the rest area was a stretch of wasteland, weeds grown waist-high.

I plunged straight in and ran deeper.

Dry grass slashed at my face, stinging like fire.

Footsteps came behind me, and shouting.

"Professor Fox says whoever finds her gets eight hundred thousand!"