Az is oblivious to the tension electrifying the air of the shop. He brings me over a nut and bolt, spinning them together as if he’s discovered faster-than-light travel. Even with my hands shaking, my teeth clenching hard enough to crack them, and my nostrils flaring—I smile at him. He’s not deserving of my wrath.

  Gen crosses her arms and plants her feet between the front counter and a shelf, barring me from the back of the shop. Not that I wanted to get back there. I don’t want to trap myself. The orange light over the counter splashes against her cheek, sharpening the bone there to a dagger point. The muscles in her arms stand out, her hands curled into fists, ready to strike. Dangerous, from top to bottom.

  Az returns to the box, searching out another hidden treasure.

  “Evangeline is dangerous because she works for Prism,” Gen says through gritted teeth. “Whatever she’s promised you, whatever she’s said to make you trust her—it’s all a lie. It’s all a part of her job.”

  “That’s not true,” I yell, refusing to believe her. “And how the hell would you know?”

  “If she’s helping you trade, it’s even more dangerous than I warned you it was,” Gen continues, ignoring my question. “You are not playing with fire in dealing with her, you’re in the burning house.”

  I’m not in the mood to be ignored. I jam my cane into the floor. The sharp crack of it against the concrete ignites a flame in my gasoline blood. Rage flares through my body. “Gen, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing,” she growls, throwing her arms up.

  It’s a blatant lie. There’s a sharpness to her eyes. The muscles in her neck stand out, as if they’re holding back the truth I crave. Her knuckles rub against her arm, a tell for when she’s hiding something.

  “Then fuck you and your high horse.” I march over to Az, ignoring the burn in my hip, the tingling heat in my shoulder, and the blackness prickling the edges of my vision. I’m done. I don’t want to be treated like a child who can’t make her own decisions. I bend down to pick Az up. My knees creak and scream. He goes without complaint, blinking green, hands raised like a child. In the next breath, I shove my way through the door and into the wet of the day. The rain has picked up. It hammers against the side of my face. I hide Az in my jacket where his small hands clasp my shirt. It offers a surprising amount of comfort.

  I’ve made it a few feet into the worsening storm when Gen calls my name. I refuse to answer. Refuse to give in.

  “Jaqs!” She tries again.

  I continue to ignore her. I don’t even care if she fires me at this point. White hot fire flooded my body with her words. It burned down all my restraints; awakened every thought I’ve had against Gen’s negativity. Every memory of her treating me like an invalid since I got sick. Gen took it upon herself to dictate what was best for me. How dare she try to turn me against Evangeline without any reason beyond her being in Prism. Without knowing that Evangeline is trying to break free. How dare Gen pretend she knows all of Evangeline’s thoughts and feelings.

  “Jaqs!” Gen shouts. “Jacqueline!”

  That’s too far.

  I spin, using my cane as a pivoting point. Az swings. His hands grip tighter to my shirt. “No! Don’t you dare use my full name.”

  “Stop a moment and listen,” Gen says. There is no plea in her voice. It’s cold and hard, like the scowl on her face. Another demand.

  And I, in my stupidity, do what she says.

  The rain sighs against my head, soaking my hair and shoulders. The clouds hang heavy overhead, dragging stolen dreams full of tears and rumbling cries that humans have shouted up to the sky, begging for answers. The storm promises to soak me through to the bone. Drench me in sorrow and regret. Meld it with my own until I give in to the never-ending demands of the world. Of Gen. And lose my own wants and dreams. Until I fade into the gathering gray, devouring the colorful buildings and trees around us. Until I become nothing.

  I grit my teeth and clench the handle of the cane.

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  I refuse.

  Az blinks against my front, coating me in green in the gathering shadows. And across from me, ready to wage war, Gen stands. Soaked through in her salamander sweater and heliotrope pants. She’s ready to launch hurtful barbs and acid-coated demands. But two can play that game. I plant my feet, slamming the cane into the ground. We stare at each other, waiting for the harsh words of our showdown to ruin one another

  “Prism uses people. Evangeline uses people. And with your illnesses, you’re begging for more disappointment and pain,” Gen snarls.

  “Why don’t you let me decide that? You are not me. You are not the sick one. Quit pretending you know what is best for me when you’ve never even asked. I am not one of your siblings. You have no right—”

  “I have every right!” Gen screams, pointing at her chest.

  “Fuck you!” I scream back, swinging the cane wildly. I want to throw it at her. “If I want to do tasks for Prism that help others, I have every right!”

  Thunder cries overhead, and the rain picks up. Our shouts are lost within the growl of the sky and the whip of the wind.

  “You’re an idiot,” Gen shouts. “I have every right because Prism took my want, my dream, and used it against me, trapping me for life. They are the reason the shop exists. They are why I had the funds, the equipment, and the backlog to start it. Guess what they did? They took my desire to provide for my siblings and use it to control me. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

  The puzzle pieces of Gen’s life click together. Why she would never talk about the shop. Why she hated Evangeline coming in, and why she’s so against Prism. I had suspicions over the years, but dismissed them. I didn’t want to pry when Gen was so prickly about the questions. And yet, she has. As a way to control me, she’s told me about the noose around her neck. Prism owns her.

  It sucks. There’s no denying it. But that doesn’t begin to give her the right to dictate my life.

  A small whisper at the back of my mind murmurs to tell Gen that I’m trying to help Evangeline break free. I dismiss it with a flash of rage. Gen is so lost in her hatred of Evangeline in Prism she wouldn’t believe me. She’d think Evangeline is using me. She may even run to someone else in Prism and tell them if it could be used as a bargaining chip. That would doom Evangeline. It would destroy what progress I’m making. And there would be no coming back for Gen and me.

  No.

  Better to keep that from Gen.

  “Don’t try to control my life because you made a lousy bargain,” I snap. “I am my own person and have every right to make my own choices, even if it means I mess up. For once this year, I’m alive and want things. Want to live. And the fear of running out of time is as small as it’s been. I’m healing, don’t you understand?”

  “No, you don’t understand.” Gen’s hands spread wide, slicing through the rain. She shakes them as if that will help her get her point across. “It’s not just a bad bargain. They control everything about the shop. Prism uses it to funnel business to find more people to take advantage of. I have to let them use the shop to trap people. People come in wanting a tool, or a bot, or anything to fill the hole inside, and Prism jumps on them. Every sale, every customer, goes to their databases, and I tried to keep all of that away from you. I’ve been trying to protect you this whole time.”

  I rear back as if slapped. Gen has always cared. She’s never been the best about showing it, but from the start of our friendship, she’s been in my corner. This is no different.

  But this time I don’t want to follow her lead.

  Gen lowers her hands to her sides and huffs. She shakes her head and, for a moment, regret and sadness pierce through her scowl. “Prism does this all the time. They accumulate more and more shops. More people. Because it gives them power over others, and gives them the power to get what they want. A bargain with them is a strike against the society we have. They want to destroy it. Prism wants to be in charge. You are getting yourself into deep trouble.”

  The words about Evangeline’s plight push against my lips, begging to be free. Gen could help. Having another person on our side would be wonderful. But I’m not the one who would suffer under Prism if I’m wrong. Evangeline never asked me not to tell anyone, but she also hasn’t told me it’s fine to bring someone else in on the plan.

  I swallow the words.

  “I have my reasons for working with Prism,” I say, daring to meet Gen’s eyes. “I’ve found a way to reach my dream and am getting to know Evangeline in the process. I’m doing something on my own, and you hate that. You’re so preoccupied with saving everyone, you don’t realize you’re drowning them with all your rules. You can’t take charge and dictate what I do here.”

  The rant spills out of me, each word a rushing torrent of pent-up anger and annoyance. No longer is it caged deep down in the bottom of my mind. It rips free of the binds and tethers, lashing out to cause as much harm as possible with each slash of my tongue.

  It fuels Gen. She simmers in the downpour, refusing to let the torrent put out the fire of her anger. “You have no clue what you’re talking about. That’s not it at all.”

  “Isn’t it? You try to control everyone! You’re negative all the time. Mel and I have been putting up with it for years. I’m done! I don’t want to deal with it anymore. You’re ruining my life.”

  “You are being such an idiot. I’m trying to protect you!” Gen screams. “Evangeline is using you.”

  I’ve had enough. “Go fuck yourself, Gen.”

  I sidestep a growing puddle and head to the bike Evangeline traded me. It doesn’t have a place to put Az. I zip him into my coat, sealing him against me. The fabric is soaked through, causing more harm than good at this point. It steals my body heat and damp seeps into my skin.

  There’s no place for my cane. I shove it through a belt loop and push off the street, secure the kickstand.

  Gen’s last words are lost in the roar of the bike starting.

  I roll away from Gen and any possibility of making up.