Remote

Wren

His expression darkened. "Right. No special treatment, but I don't like it. I had to ask you to sit this one out for your mother's and my sanity. I can still command it. Put you under guard until it's over."

"You wouldn't!"

Rafe quirked an eyebrow but remained silent.

"You have a spare. Parker can always step up and take over. He can charm anyone or anything."

"We love Parker, and when his time comes, I'm sure he'll step up, but don't joke like that." Her father reached for her hand again.

Wren drew it out of reach. "You really lack a sense of humor about these things."

He studied her before speaking. "It's not just Parker who has charisma; it's you as well. There's something special about the way you interact with others. People respect you because you're always willing to put yourself in the line of danger. You'll fight on the front lines and sacrifice for what you believe in."
"Dad. Stop."

"You need to listen. That's one of the things that makes a good leader, and you can be a great leader one day, and I'm trying to help you get there. You may not agree with all of my choices, but I make them with your future in mind. I want you to be an innovator, and I assign you responsibilities not because I'm your father but because you're a future Grounder leader."

"I'm not a leader. I'm me. An uncoordinated raider who often doesn't return to patrol on time. You watch me through rose-colored glasses only because I'm your daughter."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Wren. Other people don't." His gaze held the steel of an enduring leader.

"Can we please end this now?" She pushed herself out of the chair and stormed out of his study.

***

The night before the raid on the archives, Wren found it impossible to sleep. She dragged on a pair of running shorts and an old, pock-hole-filled shirt and set off at a jog. Being early morning hours, the corridors held few people, but Wren found quiet paths to clear her head. Running through the market, vendors' stores stood closed with individual stands covered and secured until the next day. She sprinted past the underground lake so black the bottom appeared fathomless. An unused battery-powered flashlight remained clutched in her hand for later.

The trail was her heartbeat. The patter of her running shoes and her breath were the only sounds resonating against the stillness of the caves as she ran deeper and deeper into the less explored caves. There were still places off limits and to be discovered. One day. She wasn't at 100 percent, and her back ached, but if she pushed herself, she'd be there soon.

She found a large rock illuminated by florescent stalactites and hauled out the notes from her pocket. Using the beam of the flashlight, she scoured them, rereading the words and examining the paper for any clues about the author. People swam through her mind.

Did my commander know I committed treason when I entered Codey's house? Was my father trying to scare me? He wouldn't do that, would he? Mason? Someone else? A spy for New State? She had no answers and even more questions.

Even though the raiders didn't need to report to the meeting room until noon the next day, Wren was up early, going through her combat drills. An hour later, Mason joined her. They put on sparring gear and headed to the mats.

"Are you nervous?" Mason asked.

She nodded. "You?"

"Me too. What do you think of the plan?"

Wren sent a halfhearted punch toward his face.

Mason blocked it and said, "It's smart. Having us dress up as New State Citizens right before curfew to get into the building. That made sense. Once the archive closes, we should be able to gather the data."