The Program (The Program #1)(4)

“Hey, gorgeous,” Miller says when I sit down. “You and James have a good therapy session?” He’s sitting in the desk next to mine, staring into his lap as the teacher turns to write on the dry-erase board.

Miller and I have been friends since the beginning of last year, sharing most of our classes together. He’s tall and wide, and I imagine if our high school had a football team, he’d be their star athlete.

“Yep,” I respond. “Think we really had a breakthrough this time.”

“I bet.”

He smiles but doesn’t look over. Instead he continues to doodle in a notepad that he’s got stashed under the desk. My heart thuds in my chest at what I have to say next.

“Lacey’s back,” I say quietly.

Miller scratches his pen harder into the paper. “Where’d you hear that?” I try not to react as the color drains from his face.

“Kendra Phillips told me before they came and . . .” I lower my voice. “Took her.”

Miller finally looks sideways at me, obviously hearing about Kendra for the first time. His brown eyes narrow, maybe deciding if he truly believes that Lacey could be home. But then he just nods and goes back to his notepad. Never saying a word.

His silence nearly breaks me, and I spread my fingers out on the cool desktop, trying to keep my emotions in check. I stare down at my fingers, at the plastic heart-shaped ring there. James had given it to me the first time he kissed me—a few months before my brother died. Lacey and Miller always joked that this ring was the closest I’d ever come to getting a real diamond from him. Then James would laugh, saying that he knew what I really wanted and it didn’t sparkle.

It was a different time then—a time when we all thought we’d make it. I close my eyes to keep from crying.

“I think . . .” Miller pauses, like he’s not sure he wants to say it. When I turn to him he bites on his lip. “I think I’m going to go to Sumpter to see her.”

“Miller—” I start, but he waves me away.

“I have to know if she remembers me, Sloane. I won’t be able to think of anything else until I know.”

I watch him for a long moment, see the pain behind his eyes. There’s nothing I can say that will change his mind. Not when he loves her so much. “Be careful” is all I can utter.

“I will.”

My fear is strong enough to choke me. I worry that Miller will get caught at the alternative school and be flagged in the process. We’re expected to keep our distance from the returners unless the time is monitored at the Wellness Center, at least for a while. If we’re caught interfering with their recovery, we can get flagged or even arrested. And none of us wants to be sent away to become comfortably numb.

Miller is quiet through the rest of class, but when the bell rings, he gives me a nod. It might be dangerous for him to approach Lacey at this point, but if she was herself she’d want him to try. “See you at lunch,” he says, touching my shoulder before walking toward the door.

“See you then,” I respond, and quickly pull out my phone. I text James. MILLER’S GOT A STUPID PLAN.

I wait, still in my seat as the classroom filters out around me. When a message pops up on the screen, I feel my chest tighten.

SO DO I.

PLEASE DON’T, I type. I’m terrified that my boyfriend and my best friend will get flagged, and I’ll be left all alone in this barren place. This barren world.

But all I get back is: I LOVE YOU, SLOANE.

• • •

James and I watch as Miller waits in the lunch line, his movements slow and lethargic. He hasn’t been the same since I told him about Lacey, and I hate myself for it. I should have let James break the news.

At the start of lunch, James and Miller decide that after classes we’ll go to Sumpter High—the school for returners—and wait for Lacey to walk out. There’s no way Miller would get more than a few words in at the Wellness Center, not when handlers will be guarding Lacey for three more weeks. Miller is hoping that, in the parking lot of Sumpter (with the proper diversion), he can get Lacey alone long enough to remind her of who he is. He thinks he can get her back.

James is next to me with his head on his folded arms as they rest on the lunch table. He’s trying to look casual, but his eyes are trained on Miller. “At Sumpter, you and I are going to create a distraction,” James says in my direction.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

His mouth turns up, his eyes flicking from the line to mine. “I can be distracting, don’t you think?”

“James, I miss her too. But I don’t want anything to—”

He reaches out his hand to clasp mine. “I know the risk, but what if she’s still in there somehow? Miller has to try, Sloane. I would do it for you.”

“And I would for you,” I answer automatically. But James’s face clouds over.

“Don’t say that,” he snaps. “Don’t even think it.” He lets go of my hand. “I’ll kill myself before they ever take me into The Program.”

Tears burn my eyes because I know it’s not an idle threat. It’s a real possibility. James doesn’t try to console me this time, there’s no point. He can’t promise me he won’t kill himself. No one can.

Six weeks ago, after they took Lacey, I had to fight hard to keep from slipping into the depression that seems to be always waiting. The depression that tells me I’ll never make it. That it’d be easier to just let go. James convinced me and Miller that Lacey was gone forever, as if she was dead, and told us to mourn—privately. But now she’s back and I’m not sure how to feel anymore.