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“None. They tell me nothing, even on good
days. Now, knowing that I have some emotional interest in the
outcome for you and the boy?” He frowned, shaking his head. “No.
I’m even more in the dark than you. I tried asking and was told in
no uncertain terms to mind my own business.”

I’d been afraid of that. “Ayo, show him the
new tattoos.”

Ayo lifted his shirt to reveal the three lines
of blue marks down his chest. Gideon didn’t seem surprised to see
them. He reached for a piece of paper and a stub of pencil on his
desktop, and quickly copied the newest symbols.

“They’ve already denied me access to his
file…” He shrugged, studying the copy he’d made. “If I find a way
to learn anything at all, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” Of course,
that meant leaving a forwarding address. I gave him the same info
I’d given Mama B — Talia’s whorehouse in the white district, as
well as Anzhéla’s theater in the fourth quadrant. I had no idea if
either of them still stood. And finally, it was time to say
goodbye.

“Good luck,” Gideon said, as he shook my hand
one last time. “I have a feeling you’re going to need
it.”

Ayo and I sat on the deck of Miredhel for the
next few hours, waiting for the traffic on the river to die. I was
jumpy, sure that at any moment somebody from the Dollhouse would
appear to take everything away, but as night fell and the city
began to quiet, I felt the first glimmer of hope that we might
truly be free.

I glanced over to find Ayo sound asleep in the
deck chair and cursed myself for not realizing how exhausted he
was. He barely stirred as I lifted him into my arms and carried him
down the stairs to the bedroom. I laid him on the bed, and for a
while I simply sat, watching him sleep. I knew I should try to rest
too, but I couldn’t. I worried that I’d sleep through until
morning, and then have to decide between braving the heavy traffic
on the river or waiting another day before leaving the city. Even
worse, I worried that I’d wake to find it was all a dream and Ayo
was still being held by Adele.

I left him sleeping and waited on the deck,
watching as the moon rose over the stinking city and the boats
returned from their dusk fishing trips. Eventually, the streets
cleared of both fishermen and whores. There was still traffic on
the river, but far less than before, and I figured it was time to
make our escape.

Getting out of the dock was the hardest part.
The lanes between the rows of boats were too narrow, and twice I
nearly collided with silent vessels, bobbing like corks against
their moorings. I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the
river. Jenko had told me to stay to the right, but that meant
crossing the broad width of traffic. Twice I ended up too close to
other boats and waved a half-hearted apology as the drivers yelled
obscenities my way, but there were no collisions, and finally I
pointed the yacht’s nose toward the sea.

Nearly there.

I held my breath as we passed under Dead Man
Bridge, her ugly expanse blotting out the entire sky, and then the
city spat us out into the open air of the waterfront. The tide was
on its way out, carrying us home. It wasn’t long before the lights
of Deliphine were nothing but a blur on the eastern horizon. When
they were lost to the glow of dawn, I dropped anchor. I’d been on
edge ever since we’d first docked in Deliphine, running on fear,
anxiety, and adrenaline. Now, it all burned away in the hazy light
of the new day. I was exhausted. My eyes ached. My limbs felt like
warm rubber.

I stumbled into the bedroom. I didn’t even
bother to undress. I fell onto the empty side of the bed and slept
soundly for the first time in ages.

I slept most of the day. By the time I woke,
the sun was halfway down the western slope of the sky, and I was
ravenous. I found Ayo sitting on deck, his face red, a trickle of
sweat dripping down his temple.

“You’re going to burn.”

He bit his lower lip. “I don’t
care.”

“You should come inside and drink some
water.”

No answer.

“Ayo?” I put my hand on his shoulder, and he
shrank beneath my touch. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked, and a tear broke through his
lashes. He wiped it away before it reached the curve of his cheek.
“Nothing.”

“Are you hungry?”

He stared down at his hands, clutched together
in his lap. “I guess.”

“Come on. Come inside.”

He obeyed, following me into the cool interior
of the cabin with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed. He sat
listlessly on the couch while I sliced sausage, cheese, bread and
fruit. I poured generous glasses of our fresh water. I realized
with some surprise that it was the first time I’d ever truly
prepared a meal. I’d stolen food and purchased food and even been
served food on a number of occasions, but I’d never stood at a
clean countertop and debated the best way to slice a pear. It was a
strange, surreal glimpse of the life I might have lived if I hadn’t
become a thief, and I found a surprising peace in it. I was
inexplicably proud as I lay the feast on the table for us. My
hunger and the simple labor of preparing the food seemed to make
everything taste better, and I was halfway through the meal before
I realized that Ayo was barely eating. He sat with a half-eaten
piece of bread in his hand, staring sightlessly down at the tray of
food.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He didn’t move. He showed no sign of having
heard me at all. His strange eyes seemed to be focused
inward.

“Ayo?”

He blinked, finally stirring. The bread fell
from his limp fingers. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?”

He shuddered, his eyes drifting closed as if
he were in pain. “I’m fine.”

“Is it the incision? Does it hurt?”

He shook his head, just barely. “It isn’t
that.”

I reached out and put my hand on his. He
winced, clenching his eyes shut, but a tear escaped nonetheless.
“Talk to me.”

No answer.

What had started as concern began to coalesce
into dread. What was wrong with him? Was this the Dollhouse’s
doing?

“I cut up the pear for you. Do you want
some?”

His gaze drifted to the tray of food, finally
finding focus. “A pear.”

I couldn’t tell if it was an answer or a
question, but I handed him a piece and took one for
myself.

I understood why Donato had brought them as
treats as soon as I tasted it. It took only the tiniest bit of
pressure from my tongue, pushing it against the roof of my mouth,
and it practically melted, filling my senses with a juicy sweetness
not unlike honey. I ate another piece, savoring it, not wanting to
take too much of it, but unable to resist a second taste. It was
amazing, and I was about to say so when Ayo began to cry in
earnest, his shoulders hunched and quaking. The force of his tears
surprised me. Adele had warned me he’d be emotional, and it made
sense if he was suddenly drowning in the hormones of puberty. But
would it begin so soon?

“Ayo?”

There was pear juice on his chin, the
half-eaten piece still held in his fingers, and he curled in on
himself, shaking as he sobbed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, putting a hand on his
shoulder.

He pulled away from me, jumping to his feet.
“Why didn’t you leave me?” He threw the piece of pear at me,
although his aim was dreadful. It missed by more than a foot. “Why
didn’t you let them erase it all?”

“What do you mean? The program? They said they
would—”

“No! I mean my brain! Why couldn’t they have
erased it all, so I wouldn’t know what I was missing?”

I stood slowly and carefully, as if he were a
horse who might be spooked by sudden movement. My hands and knees
shook. “Are you saying you wanted to stay in Deliphine?” It made no
sense. After everything we’d been through to get free of the
Dollhouse, why did he suddenly want to go back? I took a careful
step toward him, holding out my hand, wanting to soothe him, but he
backed away, stumbling down the narrow stairs toward the
bedroom.

“Stay away from me!”

He wasn’t angry, though. Despite his words,
all I heard in his voice was anguish, and I chased after him,
finally reaching him as he stumbled into the bedroom. I took his
arm, turning him toward me, and he buried his face in his hands and
cried.

“Ayo, honey, all I want to do is make things
right, but I can’t when I don’t understand what’s
wrong.”

“Don’t you see?” he cried “They took
everything from me! I don’t remember a single moment of my life
before they sold me to him, and they let
him
do all those
terrible things! They made me
enjoy
it! And then they take
me again and they pretend they’re setting me free, but they’ve
ruined everything! They’ve taken away the only thing that mattered,
and now I have to live the rest of my life knowing I’ll never have
the only thing I wanted to begin with.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“You!”

“What?”

“They should have erased it all! I don’t care
if I ended up a slave again, at least I wouldn’t have known what I
was missing.”

“Ayo, you’re not making any sense.” I stepped
closer, but he backed away. I tried to pull him into my arms, but
he resisted, and I bit back a sigh of frustration as he continued
to cry. “Nobody’s taken me away. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but they’ve ruined
everything!”

“By letting you go?” I asked, still
confused.

He lifted his shirt, revealing the new line of
tattoos, still swollen and red. “By doing this! They left the black
spot and tattooed me again, and now you’ll never want me! Not the
way I’d hoped. You said once the program was gone we’d be together,
but now it’ll never be gone! I’ll never be what you wanted me to
be. I’ll never be any better than I am now. I’m nothing but a
program, Misha! I’m nothing but a toy he threw away, and now I’m
ruined and you’ll throw me away too!”

He burst again into tears, crying into his
hands, and I took a step back, reeling from the force of his words,
my head spinning with everything he’d said. I’d made him wait and
wait, thinking I was helping, arrogantly believing I was being
generous by not demanding more of him. I’d wanted the program gone,
not because I thought he was tainted by it, but because I didn’t
want our lovemaking to be controlled by a chip in his brain. I
didn’t want his response to me to be anything other than genuine.
But suddenly, the foolishness of it all hit me. I’d been trying to
protect him, but all I’d done was make him believe that I saw him
as nothing more than his program. I’d inadvertently reinforced his
belief that with his program in place, he was less than human,
forever undeserving of my attention.

And if that were true, then I was no better
than Adele or Donato.

I pulled him into my arms despite his feeble
resistance. I used my fingers under his chin to tilt his head back
so I could see his face. He
was
more than what the Dollhouse
had done to him. He always had been. The program was nothing but a
bit of magic stowed away in his brain. But this? This was him, his
thin body trembling in my arms, his sad, pale eyes, begging me to
fix everything, his soft lips beckoning me, just waiting to be
kissed. I knew how he’d taste, his lips salty from his tears, but
his mouth sweet as always. He looked so young, but he wouldn’t be
this way forever. And suddenly I didn’t want to wait another
minute.

“I think they’ve kept us apart long
enough.”

I had a moment, the tiniest fraction of a
second, to register the surprise on his face. To see the hope in
his eyes. To hear his soft exclamation of relief before I kissed
him.

And after that, I was lost. There was no hope
of ever coming back.

He tasted exactly as I’d known he would, the
sweetness of pears and honey mixed with the salt of his tears, but
there was so much more to absorb. The way his arms wrapped tightly
around my neck, and his breath came in frantic little moans as I
nudged his lips apart with my tongue and deepened our kiss. I was
struck, as I always was, by his openness. By his willingness. By
his palpable need to give himself to me in any way I demanded. By
his sheer desire for me to use him in the way both is body and
program demanded he be used. In the past, I’d held back, trying to
give him pleasure without taking any of my own, but now I realized
how that attempt to protect him had felt like denial. How my care
had felt like rejection. But I was done with that. I was done
denying us what we both wanted.

He slid his hands down my chest to unbuckle my
pants. I moaned as he pulled them open, freeing my erection. Still,
he hesitated a moment. I could feel the tension in him as he
finally reached for me. I knew he was waiting for me to tell him
no.

His fingers closed around my length. I moaned
at the warmth of his touch, hardly even able to kiss him as I
reveled in the simple pleasure of his touch.