CASSIAN
We crossed the city line just as the sky turned the color of a bruise.
The apartment door was locked behind us, and neither of us looked at the rearview mirror.
Looking back just made you want to slow down, and we couldn't afford that.
I drove, and Julian took his spot in the passenger seat. It was the same setup we'd had a hundred times before, but I could see his shoulders dropping.
The tight, defensive look he'd carried for weeks was gone. He looked lighter than he had since the night of the truce meeting.
I had the fake papers ready in the glove box.
I'd been hiding them for months, long before I even knew exactly when we'd need to run.
A man in my position didn't survive without an escape hatch.
We drove through the night, moving from one small town to the next. We stopped at a miserable little roadside motel with peeling wallpaper and two narrow twin beds.
