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“I’ll give you a bottle of my new special shampoo in exchange.” Mom’s gaze flitted to his messy dark hair. “You look like you need it.”

He set his hand over his heart. “Ouch.”

Mom’s response was a slow, smooth, single-eyebrow lift.

“Is this the new shampoo you just created?” I asked Mom.

She nodded.

“You should totally take that deal,” I told Marlow. “That shampoo is awesome. It smells like roses.”

His gaze lifted, like he was imagining the scent.

“It will go splendidly with this whole metal-and-mud aroma you have going on.”

He stared at me for a few silent moments, then turned to my mom and flashed her a big grin. “She clearly gets her spunk from you.”

“She certainly does.” Mom wrapped her arm around me, pulling me in closer and mussing up my hair.

Kylie got the gardening tools, Marlow got the shampoo, and I got to watch my mom make puppy dog eyes at her new friend. Wow, a lot could happen in five days. Mom had joined the revolution and found herself a new boyfriend. Dante would tease her terribly when he found out.

“We should get going,” I told Kylie.

Mom caught my hand. “Before you go, I have something for you.”

I waited, watching as she thrust her hand into her loose coat. “Walkie-talkies?”

“I’m sure you’re feeling isolated, in that house all alone.”

“Nevada talked to you, didn’t she?”

“She’s worried about you,” Mom told me. “She senses you’re feeling overwhelmed and it’s no wonder! You’re finding yourself so often in danger now. I want to remind you that you canalwayscome to me for support, but of course I realize that stubborn teenagers prefer to confide in their friends. That’s what these are for.” She handed me the pair of walkie-talkies. “So when you’re in your house, feeling scared or alone or overwhelmed, you can call Nevada and ask her to visit.”

“Thanks, Mom!” I hugged her, my eyes stinging.

“Those look familiar,” Kylie commented as I tucked the walkie-talkies into my backpack.

“Your mom kindly offered to make them for Savannah,” Mom told her. “She’s quite talented.”

“Yeah, she can make anything. One time, when I was little, I had my heart set on trying ice cream, which isn’t something we get to have in the Blue Mountains. So she built me an ice cream machine!” Kylie smiled fondly.

“She really loves you, Kylie,” Mom told her.

“And yet I never got that pony I always asked her for,” Kylie laughed, linking her arm in mine.

Just as we hurried away, a crowd of kids swooped in. They swarmed Marlow, begging for treats. And like a post-apocalyptic Santa Claus, he started pulling old, neglected toys out of his big goody bag.

“He’s pretty cool for a mercenary,” I commented to Kylie as we squeezed out of the garage, leaving the Black Market behind us.

“He cares about people,” Kylie replied. “Those of us who care have to look out for one another, no matter the rules. It’s the only way our world will change.”

“That sounds like what the Rebels say. Do you know any of them?”

She shook her head. “No, we run in different circles, you know. They tackle the big problems. We help people who are struggling with the little ones.”

Something in her eyes told me she was struggling with more than a few problems herself.

“Are you ok?” I asked her.