Beyond exhausted, sleep had refused to come and temporarily liberate her from her grief. Hannah had spent the last hour, staring at a small, faded photograph of herself as a baby. Wrapped in a soft towel and cradled in the arms of her parents, the photograph portrayed an image of a warm and unconditional love. She tried to picture this image whenever she closed her eyes, but instead, she saw only Shane lying on the ground.
There was a soft knock at her bedroom door. She ignored it.
The knock came again, only little harder this time.
Her mind suddenly jumped to memories of last night.
"I won't allow this!" her mother sobbed, after Hannah told her parents everything that had happened. "How dare they think they can take our daughter away after seventeen years."
"Lynne, please calm down," her father had said trying to comfort her.
"Calm down! How can I be calm? They took everything from us and now they are going to do it again. Daniel, there must be something we can do?"
Hannah, furious at her mother for only thinking of herself, shouted at her and reminded her that Hannah was only going to be moving to a new house and it was Shane's parents who had really lost a child that day. Her mother flinched and gave the cry of a wounded animal as she fled back into the house to her bed, leaving Hannah alone with her father.
"That was a cruel thing to say to your mother." Her father couldn't bring himself to even look her in the eyes. "I... I don't think I know you anymore!" he whispered, as too left her outside alone.
Her bedroom door opened and her father came and sat down on the end of her bed.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," he said, quietly reaching over to take hold of her hand and gently squeezing it.
"I'm sorry I shouted at Mum," she replied, hoarsely.
"It's okay, honey, she knows you didn't mean it." Her father sighed and pinched at his temples. He seemed to have aged a decade or two over the last few hours.
"Is this it, Dad, do I not have a choice in the matter?" she asked quietly, fervently hoping he would have an answer, a solution to her problems, like he'd always done.
"Shh, not here" he whispered. Hannah immediately understood what he meant and after putting on her dressing gown, she followed him out of the room, down the stairs and back out to the yard where they sat on an old bench. Her father had made the bench years ago from scrap pieces of timber he'd salvaged. He had spent hours sanding it, smoothing it, treating the wood. For the final decorative touch, he engraved their initials L, D and H, inside a small heart shape. It was still a beautiful piece of furniture even though it had seen many brutal winters.
"Hannah, I need to tell you something that not even your Mother knows, but you must promise me that you won't say a word to anyone?" he said, looking directly at her.
Anxiety fluttered in her stomach again.
"There is nothing we can do about Shane, tomorrow, the meeting or your moving back to them..." Hannah still had hold of the photograph. She had never felt more defeated and the mere mention of Shane's name was like a blunt knife puncturing her heart.
".. for now," he said and took a deep breath. Hannah heard something in his voice that made her pulse increase a little.
"What do you mean?"
"I haven't been doing over time at work, these last few months, Hannah."
Her father had barely been home for more than a couple of hours a day for weeks now. He usually left the house before she woke and was often asleep before he came home.
"I belong to an organisation that is trying to change things. You said a man called Zeke told you about your rating? Well, I believe he is part of the same organisation, although I can't be sure. There are quite a few of them now. Mostly working independently but all with the same goal..."
Hannah looked at her father as if she had never seen him before. She was too stunned to speak.
".. of bringing down this damn government and every bloody thing it stands for. The Flawed can no longer be treated like cattle while the other live like kings," he spat.
She had never heard her father swear and the tone of his voice was venomous, filled with such anger, she wondered how he had managed to conceal it all this time.
"What is this organisation Dad, who runs it, what do you do there?" Her mind whirred with a hundred questions.
"It's not a club Hannah with a big welcome to sign held above its door." There was no humour in hi tone. "It doesn't really have an official name, but as people have a habit of naming stuff, it has become known, unofficially as Parity. In other words, equality. They share the same ideals that I do in that everyone should be treated the same, have equal access to education, medical care, and food. Even the equal right to bear and raise a child without fear of it being taken away."
Hannah sat for a second and thought over what he had said. Parity was a word she had never heard before. She wasn't surprised by this.
"To answer your second question, I do not know who runs it? There are leaders but Parity has a devolved structure. It is easier to hide, to deny knowledge of it if you don't know who runs it. I know who I report to and that is all I need to know, and before you ask, no, I am not going to tell you who it is. You and your mum's safety is my only concern."
"So, what do you do," Hannah asked, suddenly scared at what his answer might be?
"I suppose you could call me a modern-day highway man," he replied jovially, but the look on his face did not match the lightness in his tone. "I take things from those who have more than they need and I help distribute them amongst those that need it most."
Hannah was stunned. She'd heard recent news reports of violent hijackings of supply convoys. Heard tales of warehouses full of luxury items all destined for the Top-5, but raided and cleaned out. The army had even been called in to do the job of night watchman to prevent the losses. Surely her father wasn't involved in that?
"Don't look frightened, Hannah, I know you have heard the awful news stories going about. We're not a violent organisation Hannah, but if we must protect ourselves, we will take any means necessary. Do you understand what I am saying?" he questioned.
Hannah nodded.
"I have a minor role helping Parity raise funding and helping people who would otherwise starve. There are other people, teams who are working on far more complex tasks. Surveillance, espionage, even some scientific research into Flawed testing and the government's program of gene modification. We have people both outside and on the inside in very high levels, or so it's rumoured."
Hannah could not believe her ears. Firstly, that there was such an organisation, but secondly, that her father was a part of it. She looked at him through new eyes and it then it dawned on her.
"Dad," she paused, "you want me to go there and help Parity, don't you?"
Her father closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Yes," he said quietly, as his body released the breath.
She thought of her parents, she thought of Shane and she thought about everyone she had ever cared about and how their lives had been blighted by the simple designation of being Flawed.
"I don't know what I can do Dad, but I promise you, I will do whatever I can to help out. I owe it to Shane." She wished she felt as confident as she sounded.
Her father reached over and hugged her to him.
"What about Shane's parents? Do they know what happened? She suddenly felt as selfish as her mother had been earlier. She hadn't really stopped to think how they were taking the news of his death.
"They have been moved Hannah. They were moved them as soon as we knew what happened. They are devastated but they are safe. No one is going to interrogate them or imprison them for being related to a known runaway."
Hannah sobbed into his shoulder. Why did this feel like the last hug they would ever have?
A few hours later, Hannah had been tidying her room. She stripped the bed knowing she wouldn't be sleeping in it for a while, she hoped. She also put her few personal items in order, so her mother wouldn't have that task to do once she was gone. She hadn't seen her mother yet and dreaded the moment she would have to say goodbye.
She heard the door open and her mother called up to her.
"Hannah, the car is here."
Hannah took one last look around her room. She picked up Shane's drawing of the two of them flying a kite, and the picture of her as a baby with her parents. Folding them with the utmost care, she placed them into her back jeans' pocket. She would rather die before she would let anyone take them from her. She then left the room and walked slowly downstairs.
"Hello Miss Green." The agent who questioned her last night was standing at the door.
"Give me a minute while I will say goodbye to my parents. I will meet you at the car," she stated firmly. Scott momentarily hesitated, but nodded and went back to the car.
Hannah closed the door and turned to face her parents who were standing behind her. Her father hugged her. "Call us if you need anything," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. Her eyes stung and she managed to blink away the forming tears until she turned to her Mother.
"Mum, I'm so sorry I shouted at you," she said lowering her eyes.
"You have nothing to apologise for. "Remember we are your family and we love you with all our hearts. Now go and get in that car." Hannah's mother almost manhandled her daughter out of the house. They both knew Hannah didn't have the strength to leave by herself. Her mother took hold of her hands and squeezed tight. Hannah felt a something in between the palms of their hands. Her mother's eyes pleaded with her to take hold of the item and keep it safe. Hannah closed her hand and slid, the item, a piece of paper into her back pocket alongside the two pictures.
"Go," her mother whispered.
Hannah reluctantly turned towards the car. It was a stretch black limo car, with tinted windows. In the Top-5 zone it wouldn't have caused a single head to turn. Here, the entire neighbourhood was congregated to one side, full of noisy questions and gossip. When they saw her approach the car, they went quiet. A man in a black suit got out of the driver's side and made his way round. He wore a shiny black hat and had black leather driving gloves on.
"Miss Green," he said, lowering his head in a respectful manner and opening the door.
The interior of the car was mostly cream leather with chrome fittings. Scott was seated opposite. Come on, you can do it, she spoke to herself. She took a final glance back at the house. Her parents had retreated back inside. She couldn't see them at the window but she knew they were there, watching from the shadows, holding each other up whilst they watched their baby being spirited away. She swallowed trying to move the lump in her throat and took a step forward and climbed into the car.
"Make yourself at home," the agent smiled.
Hannah wanted to curse, but she politely shook her head. She hadn't eaten or drank anything that morning for fear of being.
"Our journey should take about thirty-five minutes, so sit back and relax. First though, I should introduce you to somebody."
Hannah hadn't even realised that there was somebody else in the vast car.
"Hannah, this is Commander Zeke Matheson. He is head of security and will be overseeing your visit today and possibly longer."
With that Hannah's jaw dropped to the floor.
"Miss Green, a pleasure to finally meet you," he said in monotone, and then turned back to a pile of paper work sat in his lap and started to read.