I am on edge for several days, always looking over my shoulder, worried that I have been followed again. I may have escaped their clutches three times now, but I doubt they will stop coming after me.

I still remember what that woman, Alina, mentioned to the man--something about her son returning home, and how she wants to involve him in this situation.

I get the feeling that I would be much better off if that never happens.

The constant flooding, meanwhile, is getting worse and worse. I can no longer trust myself to step into most buildings, considering the number of plumbing systems I have blown up. Instead, I am back to sleeping on the streets. At least those floods can be blamed on monsoons.

But constantly avoiding this is going to get me nowhere. I keep trying to convince myself that as time passes, it will become easier to control, but if anything, the opposite seems to be happening. And it's much worse than how it was ten years ago, the last time something like this happened. This power is more volatile, more unpredictable, more out of control than it used to be. And that terrifies me.

So that leaves me two problems to deal with. Figuring out what to do about that dratted police officer duo, and regaining some semblance of control over this water thing.

At least I have a vague plan for the first one.

Blackmail.

As the days pass, I don't forget the details of the conversation I eavesdropped on. It's the one thing I have to my advantage right now. I'm positive that they're currently harboring a criminal in their home, and even though I don't know anything more specific than the fact that it is a female whose name starts with an A, it should still be enough to convince them that I can ruin them with a single slip of my mouth.

I spend hours thinking about how to word my note. Ideally, I can avoid a confrontation and just slip the paper into their belongings somewhere, where they won't discover it until I am long gone.

When I finally write out a version I am somewhat satisfied with, I set down the pen and hold up the paper, squinting at it to make sure it's perfect.

Hello, you idiots.
You're really bad at keeping secrets.
I know you're hiding A in your house. I know she is a criminal, and your lives would be royally screwed if the wrong (or should I say right) people were to find out.
Come after me one more time, and try to take me with you, and I promise you that I will "accidentally" let my mouth slip.
--Your Favorite Runaway

Short and to the point. I like it.

I fold up the note and stick it into my pocket. It stays tucked behind the pocket knife that I always make sure to keep on me, hidden away on the inside of my jacket. I'm sure there's no way they'll still try to come after me once they read this. Unless I've underestimated the severity of the punishment they may face if they're found out...

No, I'm not considering that. This has to work.

So, time passes, and I wait.

And I almost miss it.

The day is hot and humid, the sun's rays mercilessly beating down on me as I stroll through the streets in a leather jacket. Maybe it wasn't the best choice of clothing, but my pocket knife and the note is in there, and there is no way I'm letting go of that. I even have the little button from my old denim jacket that I ripped off back in 101st, which I still haven't thrown away, tucked in here somewhere.

It's almost overwhelmingly noisy here, with suffocating crowds of people swarming the area, wrapping me in a haze of bright colors and loud, clamoring voices. Small stands selling various little trinkets line the sides of the road, their owners yelling out what they are selling in hopes of drawing customers to them. The road itself is jam-packed with cars that are trying to maneuver around the hordes of people crossing, the sounds of incessantly honking horns and angry drivers shouting profanities at the pedestrians blaring in my ears.

People don't seem to be big on following the rules here, ignoring the traffic lights entirely. Even the little streetside shops are technically illegal. But when a Sector is as far from the City as this one is, I guess people don't really care. Half the people running the ramshackle shops on the sides of the road probably didn't even get assigned to business after the Examination. And considering that overall, more people fail the Examination out here--considering that the education system isn't as great out here as it is in the inner Sectors, and the Examination is standardized--it's more than likely that all the streetside stands are run by people who failed and didn't want to be penniless and homeless for the rest of their lives.

It's when I duck past a group of people haggling over the price of some vivid, gold patterned cloth at a streetside shop that I see them, paused for a second in front of a small stand.

Their presence hardly comes as a surprise. I've been prepared to see them since I got here. As my gaze lands on them, almost skimming right past them before I catch myself, my hand instinctively reaches for the note in my pocket.

I have to admit, though, I'm not prepared for the teenage boy who accompanies them.

He moves with a slight swagger, hands carelessly shoved in the pockets of his sweatshirt, shaggy reddish brown locks falling over his face in a sort of I didn't brush my hair this morning but it still looks good sort of way, a small smirk dancing across his lips. I have to admit he's good looking. But, based on his posture, the way he walks, the expression on his face--I know exactly what kind of boy he is, and my thoughts are only confirmed when he notices one girl who had stopped to stare at him for a few seconds too long and responds with a flirtatious wink.

God. I hate him already.

I spend no more than half a second wondering who the hell he is. Clearly, it's the son Alina mentioned a few days ago. Although I didn't expect them to bring him along so soon. Did they go all the way to 13th, get him, and come right back in such a short amount of time? Impressive.

I scrutinize him for a moment. Even at a distance, through the crowds of people, I can tell the similarities between him and his, well, his parents. He seems to have mostly the same sharp facial features as his dad, but the same straight reddish-brown hair as his mom. That cocky tilt of his head and the arrogant swagger with which he walks, though, is clearly something of his own.

I suddenly realize I've spent way too long staring. I may not have been prepared for a third person to come for me, but my plan won't change based on the number of people. All I need is to sneak up to them and slip the note onto them in a place where they're bound to find it, then leave unnoticed.

The three of them are still at the stand. The man has his arms crossed, an expression of annoyance on his face. His son stands next to him, casually leaning against the stand, curiously eyeing the people who walk past. Meanwhile, Alina studies whatever that stand is selling with great interest, lifting something up and admiring it in the sunlight.

I inch towards them, noting yet another small shop on the side of the street that's fairly close to the one they're at. As I sidle over there, a man standing there eagerly starts babbling something that I can hardly concentrate on. I plaster a fake smile on my face and nod enthusiastically, pretending like I care about what he's saying.

I act as though I'm examining the little bell-shaped gold earrings he's selling, eyeing Alina out of the corner of my eye as I do so. She's carrying a purse, which is the easiest place for me to leave this note. By some stroke of luck, both her son and his father are angled away from me. This should be easy. Should be.

Cautiously, I take one step towards them.

The man stiffens.

I freeze.

Don't look don't look don't look--

He turns around to sweep the surroundings, and I dart backwards so that I am hidden behind a cluster of people walking past.

Three seconds pass. Four. Five. His eyes narrow.

Don't notice me--

He turns back around.

I exhale heavily, almost collapsing in relief. Even if he did see me, I don't doubt that I could easily outrun them, but then I'd never be able to get them the blackmail note. I'd be forced to voice its contents aloud instead, and that means getting into the confrontation that I'd rather avoid.

Determined to get up close to them, I take a step forward again. Then another step. And another.

None of them give any indication that they notice I'm here.

Feeling a little emboldened, I take four quick steps at once and then move behind a street sign, bringing me just a few meters away. The sign provides little cover, but it's something.

For a moment, nothing happens. I'm prepared to dart forwards and slip the note into Alina's purse. My fingers tighten around the folded note in my pocket, and I bounce on the balls of my feet, preparing to dash in and out as fast as I possibly can. Just a couple more sec--

Alina whirls around.

Her eyes lock onto mine.

I'm paralyzed at first, my breath catching. Her eyes widen in shock, as if she can't believe I am actually here, and she even blinks a few times in disbelief. And then she's pulling on the police officer's sleeve, frantically gesturing at me, words failing her.

He turns to look at me. At that moment, I come to my senses. and without hesitation, I turn on my heel and run.

At first, I'm stuck in the thick of the crowds, all the bodies in my way slowing me down. Gritting my teeth, I shove my way through, maneuvering to the edge of the sidewalk, and then I start sprinting, dodging the streetside stands in my way. The end of the sidewalk gets closer and closer, and loud honking fills my ears as cars rush past the intersection.

If I want to lose them, I have to somehow get across the street in the midst of all of the vehicles and manage to avoid getting run over.

A quick glance over my shoulder confirms that they're closing in. Cursing under my breath, I zigzag around a stand laden with a variety of colorful, patterned scarves, purposely slamming into it in order to send its contents flying everywhere, almost toppling the stand itself. The man behind it spins around furiously, and at the sight of me starts waving his fist and shouting, spit flying everywhere, but I ignore him. The group of people suddenly crowding the area coupled with the scarves spread across the ground should be enough to slow those three down a little.

I almost skid to a stop when I reach the end of the street, noting the cars rushing past in a disorganized manner. But as I look behind me again, I see that waiting for a large lull in the traffic is going to lose me the lead I just gained. And even if there was a traffic signal here, it's not like these drivers would follow it, anyway. Who knows how long I'd be here if it was a clear path across the street I was waiting for.

So, just as a small gap occurs between the wall of cars, I sprint across without hesitation, making it to the other side with plenty of time to spare before the next cars speed past. Before continuing on, I turn around and crane my neck to see my pursuers, seeing that the man and woman are still stuck by the scarves. It seems as though they tripped and fell, getting themselves hopelessly entangled and completely bringing down the stand with them, because the stand is now lying on the ground, blocking their path. I guess it doesn't matter that I didn't fully knock it over on my own.

Their son, however, either managed to evade the falling stand or already got free. In any case, he has an unobstructed path to the road. He's already almost caught up to me. As I watch, he turns around, noticing that his parents are still stuck. But Alina shouts something incomprehensible at him, and his gaze travels across the road until it lands on me. And then he's running--not to help his parents untangle themselves, but towards me.

She's sent the dratted boy after me on his own.

And, as I can clearly see, he is much faster than his parents.

"Shit," I mumble, and I'm sprinting again.

I fly across street after street, cursing all the rule-breaking idiots in this goddamn Sector every time I have to skid to a stop to avoid being run over by cars, constantly checking for signs of pursuit. Soon, I find myself in a quieter area, where I don't have to pause in my running every few seconds and lose my momentum. Finally, although I've gotten myself so turned around I don't even know where to begin finding my way back, I end up at a completely empty intersection surrounded by dull gray buildings. It's eerily silent.

My eyes land on a dimly lit alley between two of the buildings and I hurry towards it, slipping into the shadows. There, I lean against the cold stone wall and rest my hands on my knees, catching my breath.

It took me much too long to get away. Usually, if my path is unblocked, I can sprint pretty fast and for a decent amount of time. I'm above average at running, definitely. But with all of the times I had to stop and maneuver around a group of people, or shove my way past bodies blocking my path, or wait at an intersection for a large enough gap to appear between the cars... that boy just got closer and closer. And, unfortunately, while I'm easily capable of outrunning less fit adults, teenage boys are much more difficult to shake off. It doesn't help that he seems to be good at running, too.

Feeling somewhat rejuvenated, I peer around the corner to check if I really lost him. For a few moments, everything seems clear.

And then he rounds the corner.

I'm too slow--his eyes land on me and widen just before I can pull back unnoticed. Cursing at myself, I straighten and take off through the alley, grateful to see that there seems to be an entire maze of them back here. Surely I can lose him in here, somehow.

I turn past corner after corner, searching frantically for a low enough wall for me to scale and jump over before that boy catches up. But not only are such walls nowhere to be found, he is too close on my heels for me to have enough time to get over one anyway. Where did he learn to run this fast?

Finally, I stumble into a wider alleyway. Near the end of it, I note what looks like the back door to a shop, with two large trash bins in front of it and a small overhang above it. And just past that is a stone wall full of divots and cracks, blocking off whatever is behind it. This alley is a dead end--but that wall is practically made for climbing. It is so weathered, there are plenty of natural handholds and footholds.

I start to make a dash for it.

But then the door under the small overhang bangs open.

And the man and woman step out, panting.

I skid to a halt, my eyes wide in horror. How the hell did they know I was here? How could they intercept me like this?

Perhaps they didn't know, because the moment the man's eyes land on me, his jaw drops, his eyes bugging out. The woman lets out an audible gasp.

Before either of them can act, I turn on my heel, about to run in the opposite direction.

And then the boy appears behind me, cutting off my only escape route.

Shit.

"Please," Alina bursts out before I can even think to do anything, her hands held out in front of her in a placating gesture. "Just--please listen to us for a second. We just want to talk, I promise."

"Okay. Talk. What do you want with me?"

Both adults stare at me for a moment, clearly expecting me to put up more of a fight. Normally, I would. But I'm clearly not getting out of here using force. If I can get them to let their guard down, perhaps I can make a quick getaway before they even realize what's happening.

Now would be a great time for a random torrent of water to burst out from behind me, I think irritably. But, of course, nothing happens. Figures. Why would it happen when it would be helpful to me, when it could catch me off guard instead?

"We want to help you," Alina says cautiously, still not sure what I'm up to. I plaster the most innocent expression I can onto my face as she continues. "You clearly have power, and have managed to keep it hidden for years. And, believe me, that's impressive, but also dangerous. People like that--especially as strong as you are--have to be taught. Trained. You need to learn to control it."

"I already know how," I bluff, grinning at her. It's not completely a lie, anyway. I used to know--until they ruined it all. "I'm self-taught."

She shakes her head in frustration. "There's no such thing."

"Technically," her son pipes up, "there is--"

"You're not helping, Hayden," she snaps, and he closes his mouth sheepishly.

"You heard the boy," I say, raising an eyebrow. "It's possible. I'm incredibly talented, so I did it. I assume that's all you wanted with me? Now that that's all taken care of, thank you very much, but I'll just be going now--"

"Not so fast, young lady," the man warns. Glaring at him, I step back to where I was standing before.

He takes a step towards me as I do so. "There are actually a lot of mysterious things about you that we'd like to clear--"

It happens with no warning.

My ears pop, and I miss the rest of his sentence. But I suppose it doesn't matter, because a couple seconds later, hundreds of gallons of water crash over the wall behind me, pouring around me like a waterfall, rushing towards them like a stampede of wild animals.

The man shouts in shock. Alina screams, leaping backwards. And I spin around wildly, trying to pinpoint the source of the water. I mean, there's an entire building at my back. A second later, it occurs to me that it doesn't even matter--I should be taking this chance to get the hell out of here. So I lock my eyes on the low wall just behind the two adults, preparing to run as soon as they get bowled over by the flood. Which is going to happen in maybe a second or so, if they're lucky enough--

The torrent is a split second away from slamming into them when the impossible happens.

The water stops.

And by stops, I mean it freezes in midair.

It's like it's been turned to ice on the spot, but not. Like some sort of sculpture built up around me, but somehow made of water. Almost as if time has frozen.

I'm too shocked to move.

Before I can completely process what is going on, yet another impossibility happens. The wave of water slowly, slowly falls, gently pattering down like light raindrops, each droplet vanishing as it hits the ground. In less than a minute, almost the entire torrent is gone, as if it never existed.

What. The. Hell.

The man and woman exchange amused glances, though I don't miss their relieved exhales. Then the man looks at me. His expression says, I guess you're not so talented now, are you?

But they're not the people who have my attention right now. My eyes are glued to the boy who has moved to stand in front of them, not bothering to block my path to leave anymore. It's like he knows that I'm not taking a step away from them when something as crazy as this has just happened--not when I don't know how. The worst part is, he's not wrong. An arrogant smile is dancing on his face, a challenging look in his eyes. And in his hands...

His right arm is outstretched, his palm flat and facing the sky. His fingers curl upwards, and right above them... no. That's not possible.

But I can clearly see the little ball of water dancing above his fingertips.

It's a tiny, clear, undulating sphere, growing and shrinking and shifting its shape. As I watch, mesmerized and shocked and horrified all at the same time, it shapes itself into a flower, then a heart, then a little smiley face. And, in a quick movement, the boy flips his hand downwards and closes it into a fist. The sphere vanishes. Droplets of water splatter onto the ground at his feet.

No way.

"You--you--" I choke out.

"There's a lot you don't know about us," he tells me, the corners of his mouth twitching. As I stand frozen, he takes a few steps forward, shaking his hair out of his eyes and offering me a haughty smile.

"See, you're not the only one who's Gifted."