One (One Universe)

whole way to the VanDyne house. Elias’s car reflects blue from my headlights, and I sigh with relief.
    I want to wiggle into bed next to him, wrap my arms around his waist, bury my head in his chest and forget the rest of the world exists. Whisper to him in the dark that I’m sorry, tell him we’re in this together, that we’ll figure out this whole stupid backpack thing and the Hub thing, and if we can’t, we’ll run away together, anywhere, anytime, just like he wanted, as long as we’re together.
    I knock on the door right after I realize how freaking early it is, how normal people aren’t even awake at this hour. No one answers, of course. I run down the side of the house and start chucking gravel pebbles at Elias’s window. After a few minutes of that, there’s still no movement from inside. I know I’m definitely not supposed to be here, with his weird curfew and all, but still. Elias would know it was me, would open his window.
    I hook my fingers onto the window sill and float up just a tad to peer inside. It’s still dark in there, but the blue glow of his alarm clock illuminates the room enough for me to see that his bed is empty.
    My arms shake, so violently that I almost can’t hold on to the sill anymore. My stomach twists painfully. I dash all the way to the other side of the house, right outside the music room door.
    I raise my palm up to the smooth black panel and whisper, “Hey, Rosie.” Just as I’m about to press my hand to it, I spot something sticking out of the narrow gap where the panel meets the house’s outer wall — a scrap of paper. I tug it out and unfold it with trembling hands. When I read what’s written there, my stomach twists even more.
    M —
    Knock knock.
    — E
    My heart stops, and I can’t fill my lungs. He’s at the Hub. Oh my God, they’ve taken him to the Hub, and they’re going to try to get him to fly.
    I push my sleeve up to look at my cuff, but it loosened in my scramble to get dressed, and it flops off into the garden. I scrabble around among the plants, leaves scraping my arms, soil caking under my fingernails, trying to find it. But it’s dark, and under the shadows of the plants, I can’t see anything. Hot tears stream down my face. Finally, kneeling in the dirt, I find it and search for his call in the log. He called me at 3:30 AM.
    “Dammit!” I scream at the house, at all the shit that Elias has gone through, at all the more he’ll go through on account of me. I slam my palm against the scanner, open the music room door, and streak past the drum set that two months ago I thought was the most awesome thing in the world.
    I’m already in the hallway by the time Rosie has finished saying, “Welcome, Merrin Grey,” and my heart nearly stops. Why does the damn house have to announce every person who walks through the door?
    “Rosie, go silent,” I hiss, hoping that command works.
    I tear into the main area of the house. All the lights are off, except in the kitchen, like always. Frantically, I run my hands along the counters, looking for a note, a key, anything that will help me think of how to get to Elias, tell me what to do. Anything.
    A sudden, loud, rasping noise startles the hell out of me, and I whip around, waiting to see Elias’s dad — or worse, some Hub official — waiting there in the for me. Then a pungent, familiar scent hits the air, and I calm down the tiniest bit. It’s the damn coffee maker, automatically starting to brew first thing in the morning. Like this is a normal freaking day.
    Of course it’s not a normal day. The tears start up again.
    Then it hits me. I have my cuff. I’m such an idiot. I’ll just call him, see where he is, at least let him know I’m trying to get to him. At least text him. I call first, jittery as I listen to the ringer once, twice.
    Another sound makes me jump, a harsh trill from three doors down. Elias’s room. His freaking cuff is still here.
    I run back outside to my car, barely able to see through the black after my eyes have adjusted to the house’s low light.
    Just last night, Elias told me the very reason he’s gone now. The fear in his voice was of something real. His dad’s been waiting for him to fly, pushing for this.
    Whatever he’d been letting them do to Elias there at the Hub, they think it’s working. They took him because they think they’ve finally made him fly.
    They wouldn’t think that if he hadn’t lied to protect me. And we wouldn’t be in this