In the After

house, eating pizza bagels. I saw an alien for the first time.
    I was no longer hungry.
    I handed the plate to Baby, who automatically took a large bite, her eyes glued to cartoons. The food was hot; she blew on it and took a sip of water to cool down her mouth. As she chewed she turned and stared at me.
    What is this? she asked.
    She’d never had unprocessed cheese. The only bread we had was the kind I made at home which always came out hard and dry. I never got the knack for baking.
    It’s food from Before .
    This is the most fan food ever . She turned back to the TV and wolfed down the rest.
    My stomach growled, but I ignored it. I was way too on edge to eat. My mother would be back soon to show us around New Hope. I thought about her on the news. She was the director, but who, or what, did she direct? Before, she worked in a research lab for the government.
    Maybe she could tell me more about the creatures, about where they came from and why they were here. It couldn’t just be coincidence or a mistake. Why were they so vicious? And why us? Why now?
    I glanced at the clock. My mother couldn’t answer my questions if she wasn’t around for me to ask them. I tried to watch cartoons with Baby, but I was unsettled. I sighed and willed time to go faster, which only made it worse.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
    “Hello again, Amy.” An older, doughy man sits in a plastic chair across from me, smiling. I rest on my bed, my feet thrust under the covers. I’m uncertain about most things, my thoughts are murky, but I know I like my room. Even groggy, I feel comfy here .
    “Hello . . . Dr. . . .”
    “Dr. Reynolds,” he tells me helpfully .
    “Yes, of course.” I know this man, I’m sure of it, but I can’t quite place him. I’m finding it hard to concentrate .
    He looks in his notebook and scratches his bald head. “How are you feeling today?” he asks pleasantly. He seems nice enough. Maybe he’s a friend? But that doesn’t seem quite right. I feel bad for not remembering him .
    “Good,” I tell him. “I like it here.”
    “That’s great.” He scribbles something in his notebook and looks up brightly, which makes me smile. “You’re not planning any more escape attempts, are you?” he asks in a joking tone .
    “No . . . . ,” I assure him, not certain what he’s talking about. I want his approval, so I add, “New Hope is fan!”
    Dr. Reynolds laughs lightly. “Well, I think so too, Amy. New Hope is everything I’ve always wanted.”
    “It’s safe,” I offer. I hear my mother’s voice saying it again and again. “You’re safe now, Amy.” I scowl because I know, somehow, that she was wrong. I also remember another voice, a male this time. “I’ll keep her safe,” he promised. “I’ll protect her.”
    Dr. Reynolds studies me and I lose my train of thought, my face softening into a smile. “New Hope is safe,” I tell him again .
    “Oh, it’s so much more than that, Amy.” He closes his notebook and sits back. “New Hope holds all my ambitions for the human race. It’s our destiny.”
    I nod sleepily. A glint of a memory forming in my mind. A boy who made me promises. I let the spark flare. I need to remember him .
    • • •
    Someone’s at the door , Baby told me moments before I heard a knock.
    I hurried to the door and looked through the peephole. A teenage boy was standing on the other side.
    “Yes?” I asked through the door.
    “I . . . your mother sent me,” he said loudly. “I’m supposed to show you around. The director said . . .”
    I jerked open the door.
    “She said . . .” He lowered his voice. “She’d meet you for lunch.” He smiled crookedly, which softened his striking features and wild blond hair, making him look kind. When I noticed a pair of glasses shoved in the pocket of his white coat, I realized he was the “psychiatrist” from our arrival.
    “Oh.” I put my hand to my mouth, suddenly remembering. I’d pulled a gun on him, frightened him half to death. “Look, about yesterday, I’m sorry.”
    He shrugged. “It’s okay. The director explained your situation.” He said director like it was the president or something.
    “Did she?” I wondered what my mother told him, what she was telling everyone about her long-lost daughter.
    “We have a lot to cover, though, so we really should get going.”
    “Right. Okay,” I motioned to Baby, who turned off the television and hurried to my side. She bounced slightly on her toes, eager to