***
Our house feels empty and claustrophobic at the same time. The tears still haven’t left me. I haven’t bothered going to school. Drew and Shilah have been gone for forty-eight hours already, and I’ve spent every one of them in my room crying, even yesterday on my birthday. Dad attempted to distract me by buying a birthday cake—something we never have in this house because it’s a “waste of money.” Looking at the beautiful cake with the strategically placed candles just made me think of everything I should be celebrating and the people I should be celebrating with.
Any day now the authorities will be here looking for Shilah. I need to get my emotions under control before they do. If they suspect we know anything, we’ll be arrested on sight. I’m constantly wondering how they’re doing. Did they make it to the cabin in the woods? I was half-wishing I developed symptoms or something to raise the alarm bells that would send me fleeing into the woods after them, but Dad is right, if we’re going to pull this off, we need it to look as least suspicious as possible. I keep reminding myself of this any time I want to break down.
It’s almost sunset when I hear a knock at the door. I didn’t even hear the car pull up. This is it. This is what we’ve been anticipating, what we’ve been preparing for. Only when I answer the door, I’m not prepared for what I’m faced with. Men in black uniforms storm in and pin me up against the wall as they spin me off balance and I face plant into the wallpaper. Is my nose broken? From the amount of pain and blood, I think it must be. They pin my hands behind me, and I feel zip tie restraints fasten around my wrists.
“Allira Daniels. You are under arrest.”
The Institute Page 18