We Set the Dark on Fire (We Set the Dark on Fire, #1)(15)



The car began to climb, leaving the crowds behind, and this time it didn’t dip down again. They were headed for the government complex, the exclusive, gated community where all of Medio’s most influential and powerful people lived, like priceless jewels at the island’s throat. As far from the sea and its salt-barren ground as you could get. As far as you could get from the desperation of people dependent on the tides and whims of those in power.

It had been a long time since they’d had anything to be thankful for out there. Since the Salt God denounced his brother’s second marriage, according to some, but Dani wondered sometimes if that was just an excuse.

In the rear window, the sea was visible at last—a shimmering horizon line. From up here, you couldn’t see that people were starving. Couldn’t see the ancient wall with the armed sentries stationed along it. Couldn’t see the mothers’ hands reaching, begging for a scrap of something to give their children as armored trucks rolled through the gate with just enough food to keep most of their families alive and hungry.

From here, it was almost like quivering-chinned teens weren’t probing for a place to sneak their younger siblings across, just hoping not to be gunned down or sent back. Like big men with knives and a little scraped-together power weren’t taking more than their fair share, ganging up on the already downtrodden until they were forced to do something desperate and dangerous just to survive.

Suddenly, the false papers were heavy as stones in Dani’s bag. She could try all she wanted to pretend she belonged in this car. In this life. But as long as she could see that horizon line, she would never forget where she had come from.

The gates of the government complex loomed ahead, and Dani found herself suspended between two worlds. The sea and the gate. The past and the future. But before she could deal with either of them, she would have to get through the checkpoint.

“Ay, I hate these things,” said Mama Garcia as the intimidating iron gate became visible up ahead. “It’s just a constant hassle for busy people. Who’s really going to try to sneak in up here, huh? It’s not like we don’t know a criminal when we see one.”

Her face was the picture of disdain, and inappropriate as it was, Dani fought the urge to laugh at the unbelievable irony.

Mama Garcia thought she should be able to tell. Like they all had scarlet marks on their foreheads to brand them. Like they were so decidedly other that even a glance at one would reveal them for what they truly were.

Ignoring the older Segunda’s ranting, Se?ora Garcia instructed them all to take out their papers.

Dani swallowed once, hard, as the others dug through their shoulder bags. It was time to hope Sota had earned his cocky attitude.

Her life depended on it, after all.





5


A true Primera can turn her heart to steel, and her face to stone.

—Medio School for Girls Handbook, 14th edition


AFTER A CHILDHOOD IN POLVO, beneath the shadow of the border wall, Dani thought she might never get used to the deference the police showed the wealthy.

Her papers securely in her lap, she watched as officers approached the glossy cars ahead with smiles, even laughter. A far cry from the scowling menaces who had made their way through Polvo once a week, scattering chickens, terrifying children and adults alike as they searched for stolen merchandise, punished families for “hoarding” food, and looked for people to send back over the wall.

Dani couldn’t remember ever feeling as small as she had on inspection days, and that had been their goal. To intimidate. To punish. Simply because she and her neighbors had been born with less.

But she wasn’t the same person she’d been then, Dani reminded herself. She had spent five years in the company of the country’s wealthiest daughters, learning their ways, becoming a Primera worthy of the Garcia family. That, along with her training, could be used to her advantage.

“Good morning, ladies,” said a young officer when they reached the front of the line. Mama Garcia waited until the last possible moment to roll down the window, as if the air outside held something contagious. “We’re so sorry for the interruption. With the influx of new faces around graduation time, we need to make sure we’re not letting in anyone we shouldn’t.”

“Make it quick,” said Se?ora Garcia, scarcely making eye contact with the officer.

Every girl Dani had ever been, from a scared child sneaking across the border to now, sat in awe of the way she dismissed him—and the way he let her.

“Of course, se?ora,” he said. “If you could all just pass your papers to me, we’ll have you out of here in no time.”

The se?ora reached out, and Mama Garcia and Carmen handed their papers over, still looking bored. Maybe slightly irritated. But there was no fear.

And why should there be?

Dani hadn’t moved. She needed to move.

“Come on, child,” said Mama Garcia. “We don’t have all day.”

Of course, Dani thought. They wouldn’t want Mateo’s wine to be a degree over room temperature, now would they? “My apologies,” she said instead, channeling the girl she’d learned to be in the classroom on the hill. The girl with iron in her bones, who would never let so much as a finger tremble.

You were trained for this, she told herself.

Once she handed the papers off, it was done. She would either be heading through that gate to the most exclusive community on the island, or down the road in handcuffs.

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