Page 46 of The Sixth Fraction

My breath catches. I forgot to check.

I forgot to check, and now Gretchen is going to wash one of the dirty mugs, which means she’s going to open this cabinet where the cleaning products usually are—

The cabinet opens. Gretchen looks at me for a few seconds, then crosses her arms.

“Out,” she says.

My legs are numb from being so curled up for so long. I crawl out of the cabinet, my heart racing, and straighten.

“Explain,” she says.

“I . . .” I try to think fast. What possible explanation is there for me to be hiding in a cabinet under the sink? “We were playing hide-and-seek last night.”

“And you, what? Got stuck?”

The person Gretchen was talking to is a boy, a few years older than I am, the one they call Boots. He is, in fact, always wearing boots. Right now they’re paint-splattered, and he’s sipping coffee out of a dirty mug as he looks me over, amused.

“Fell asleep,” I say. “I heard you come in, but I . . . felt silly, crawling out of there in front of people. So I thought I’d stay until . . .”

The other Foxes are walking in behind Gretchen, most of them in some state of disarray, their hair rumpled and their faces pillow-creased. Several of them head straight for the coffee, eyeing me with curiosity.

No one seems that concerned that I’m here.

“Until our clandestine meeting is over?” Gretchen laughs. “You know, we don’t keep people out because there’s anything interesting going on here, we just don’t like the distraction. All we do is talk about what needs to be stolen and who’s going to steal it, and then allocate messages to be sent.”

“Oh,” I say. My panic is yielding to embarrassment.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t . . . this. Easy laughter, barely suppressed smiles. This isn’t how people act if they’re hiding something serious . . . like a stolen weapon, a dead innocent, a plan to overthrow the faction system.

“Also, if you want to join our guild, you’re going to have to get better at thinking on your feet,” Boots says. “You know, come up with a better lie. Or don’t get into a situation that’s so hard to lie your way out of.”

“Join you?” I say.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re spying on us, right? To get an advantage?” Boots says. “Plus, didn’t the Mender point you out?”

I think of the Mender putting me in the Erudite jacket and the Dauntless one. Calling Gretchen in, telling her to consider me. I didn’t realize, at the time, what he was asking her to consider me for.

“Here’s a tip,” Gretchen says. “Get in on your own merits. Then we’ll tell you all our darkest secrets.”

She smiles and then ushers me out of the dining room.

Another dead end, I think. But it gives me a new idea.

My body aches. I make myself keep running. I can’t let myself fall behind the others.

It’s early evening, and we’re running toward the train. A big pack of us, all the faction failures from the Rookery. Learning to “be useful,” as the second rule commands.

Jove is on the train already. Rory, with her long stride, is at the front, already grabbing the handle on the side of the train car. Miles is right behind her, then Colin, and Cassandra . . . and then me. But the gap between me and Cassandra is getting wider.

I sprint alongside the train. I’m running out of platform. The others are already inside, cheering me on, but I can’t hear them. I can only hear my breaths.

I push my sore body harder and make a grab for the train’s handle. My fingers slip over it. My lungs are burning, but I run even faster and grab again. This time I grip the handle right as I run out of ground beneath my feet.

For a moment afterward I’m dangling one story over the street, and even though my heart is racing and I’m straining to breathe, I realize I’m not afraid. Or—not as afraid as I expected to be. Colin grabs my arm and hauls me inside the car.

I collapse to the ground, coughing and laughing at the same time.

“If you’re going to have short legs, you have to be fast,” Colin says to me. “It’s just science.”