Chapter One

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In my dreams I'm beautiful.

In my dreams I can fly.

In my dreams I'm free.

But dreams never last.

When the 6:30 alarm goes off, everything fades away and I open my eyes to the same white ceiling I've seen for most of my life.

These moments, with my head still full of lingering dreams, are the hardest, when I remember that none of it is real, and my only reality is here in the Control Centre.

Sitting up, I swing my legs out of bed. The linoleum floor is cool against my bare feet. There is only one window in this room, between the wall and the metal-framed bunk-beds that I share with Taffy, and through it I can see the sun rising over the distant London skyline. The skyscrapers and high-rise buildings are greyish blocks against a golden-pink dawn, like teeth in the yawning mouth of the world.

Not for the first time I wonder what the rest of the country is doing right now. Taffy says that people on the outside can choose what time they get up in the morning, but I just can't imagine that kind of freedom.

Taffy herself is still curled under the covers, and I reach up to shake her shoulder. Even after seven years in this place, she still has trouble getting up sometimes, but we only get one opportunity to shower a day, and we can't be late.

"Come on, Taff. Time to get up," I say.

On my bed, Boots uncurls from his little ball, stretching out his paws and eyeing me hopefully. He's slept with me every single night since I rescued him as a kitten, nearly three years ago, and I assume he's fully grown now, but I don't know how big cats are supposed to be. Taffy says that Boots is small for a cat, but that's good because it makes him easier to hide.

I reach out to him and he butts his head against my hand, purring.

"I guess you want your breakfast?" I say, and he blinks his big eyes at me.

Last night I smuggled up some chicken from dinner and hid it in our tiny bathroom, and I fetch it for him now, putting it under my bed so he's hidden when he eats it.

Pets are strictly forbidden in the CC, and I don't want to think what the Handlers would do if they found him here.

While I'm feeding the cat, Taffy finally drags herself out of bed, her blonde hair bushier than ever, puffing out around her head like a dandelion clock in the sun.

"Caia, I hate mornings," she mutters.

I look at her, concerned. She seems groggier than usual, her face haggard and drawn.

"Didn't you sleep?"

She shakes her head, trying to tuck her mass of hair behind her ears.

"Another nightmare?" I say.

Taffy ducks her head, but I can hear her swallow. "Yeah," she whispers.

"That's the third one this week. Maybe you should think about going back on the sleeping pills."

"I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

She gives me a tired smile. "Yeah. Now come on, I need a shower."

Before we leave the room, I glance once more out of the window, at the world I've never known, and something flashes by the perimeter fence that surrounds the CC grounds. It almost looks like a person, but it's gone in a blink.

"What is it?" Taffy asks, joining me at the window.

"I thought I saw someone."

Taffy's mouth makes a bitter shape. "More people coming to stare at the freaks, I expect."

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