Lily tied her long white hair into a tight knot at the base of her neck before lifting the black hood over her head. She straightened out the sleeves and slipped her thumbs through two slits that kept the cloth from falling. Glancing in the mirror one last time, she nodded to herself before meeting my eyes in the reflection of her body-length mirror. "Ready?"
The dark fabric she draped over my body felt like an ironic cape or burnt angel wings. She was as thin as a knife blade, but I wasn't. I could barely breathe in her attire, and all I could think about was how humid the fall air would feel once we began to walk. I stared at myself in the mirror.
"I like it," I decided.
"I know." Lily wiggled as if she was about to win another student achievement badge.
We stood in her bright pink bedroom with clothes from Lily's closet littering the floor. Considering we wore uniforms to school, her wardrobe was gigantic and completely unnecessary. She barely owned black. I was pretty sure the sweaters we wore were the only black sweaters she had.
"Those boys are going to die when we catch up to them," she said, then spun around in a tight circle. She checked out every inch of herself as if we were meeting her crush—but we were meeting her brother. "I look good in black."
Our mission was officially a fashion show. Typical Lily. As much as it annoyed me, I desperately loved that about her too.
When I had told her about the boys, she remained calm until they raided my father's forgery. She stepped in once they were preparing to leave and told them I would be sleeping over at the Beckett's house—because she was too worried to be alone, of course. They had accepted it without question. In their minds, there was no way we would leave the house under Ms. Beckett's protective eye. Little did they expect, Lily had a plan. She always had a plan. Just like Noah. The two probably clashed because they were so alike.
"I still don't see how we're going to find them," I grumbled.
"Their watches."
I rolled my eyes at the mention. "What about the watches?"
"They're synchronized."
"I figured that part out."
"But I know the code." She spread her fingers out as she counted. "If they said eleven-twenty, they really mean nine o'clock."
My eyebrows rose. "You know the time?"
"Please," she snorted. "All I did was spy on those boys when we were little. I even know the markings."
"The markings?"
Lily tilted her head, and her white bangs escaped her hood. "The ravens. The sun. The trees. The bridge. The rocks. The crest," she repeated location codes I had heard from every one of the boys, places where they met up secretly under the cover of the night sky. "Which one did they use?"
"The crest," I squeaked, ashamed of my consistent oblivion.
"The top of the clock tower," she translated as she raised her arm, gesturing with her hand. "The crest refers to the top of a wave. They named it that when Broden complained about the waves on the river, even though there weren't any." She even laughed. "They couldn't stop making fun of him for it."
I blinked. "I don't understand. What does that have to do with the clock tower?"
Lily stared at me like I hadn't been listening at all. "The clock tower is next to it."
"I remember." I felt as if I were plunging into the river all over again. Noah said I was supposed to die. Lily and Miles still didn't know. I shivered.
"The crest is at the top of the wave, so the crest is the roof of the clock tower," she finished the translation, and the code clicked.
"How exactly are we supposed to get up there?"
"The fire escape," Lily answered, hitting my arm as if I had told a joke. "Really. It doesn't even have a gate. If you ask me, that's what's dangerous." She was complaining of the dangers of an exposed ladder, but she wasn't fazed by our illegal actions. Her perception of reality was beginning to get worse than mine.
"So—" She reached up to straighten her hood. "We should leave soon."
I opened my mouth to speak, but a knocking came from her bedroom door. "Lilianne, dear." Her mother's stern voice broke through. "It's time for you girls to turn the lights out." It was eight-thirty.
Lily smiled. "Of course, Mother." She reached over and flicked off her desk lamp. Shadows clouded my vision. All I could see was Lily's outline, bulky from the clothes. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sweetheart," her mother chirped, unaware that we were dressed for an escape. "Goodnight, Sophia dear."
"Night, Ms. Beckett."
Lily and I stood in the darkness, silent enough to hear her mother's feet shuffle down the hall. A door opened only to shut, and the hallway light flicked off. The only light we had left was the thin moon, streaming in through the half-closed window. Her blinds fluttered in the wind.
When my eyes adjusted, I watched Lily's black cat jump onto the bed before stretching across it comfortably. It purred as loud as a car engine.
"Please tell me it won't give us away," I whispered, knowing her cat could easily start whining when we left.
"It has a name, you know." Lily reached over to stroke the animal. It raised its butt in the air. "I've had Saga for three years."
I knew it was named Saga. We had gone through this exact conversation a dozen times. I just couldn't bring myself to like the cat after it attacked my braid and nearly slit my throat with its back claws. I still had the scars.
"She'll be fine," Lily said, leaning over to grab a bag of cat food.
Saga leapt off the bed, and Lily dumped a pile of food as big as the cat on the floor. When the cat dug her face into the food, even I had to confess it was kind of cute, but I didn't admit it out loud.
"Can we go now?" I asked instead.
Lily walked over to her bedroom window and opened it further. The widened angle caused the wind to whistle through the small room.
"Follow me," she said, latching her nails onto the windowsill. Her long limbs extended to the vine decorations on the side of the house. She held onto them as if they were a real ladder and scaled down effortlessly. She had done this before. More than once.
She waved her arm after she landed on the ground. I leaned out, curled my fingers around the vines, and began climbing down. My heart wasn't even pumping. The adrenaline had yet to begin, but I knew it would come. This escape was the beginning. In truth, Noah's escape would be the difficult one, and we would be there to help, whether the boys accepted that or not.
There was no turning back now.
...
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