Rose Foster sits across from me at my kitchen table, peeling potatoes and humming gently to

herself. Her expression is blank and her hands are steady, turning the potato over with practiced
movements. This is how we spend most of our Fridays; preparing food for our families for the week to
come. Between us we have nine mouths to feed, and with our younger siblings in school and our
parents working twelve hour days, we are left responsible for all the meals of our two families.
Though we are only seventeen, we have both left school. Rose stopped attending class when she
was only thirteen, and I when I was sixteen. If it were up me, I would have stayed for the full thirteen
years of school, but I had already stayed longer than was expected of me and my family desperately
needed me to help provide for them. So instead of sitting in a classroom, I spend my days with Rose,
cooking, cleaning, and working. We work Sunday through Thursday for an organization called Quesra,
delivering food and medication to families who are not given enough by the municipal government of
Everett. Each family is provided with enough food and medicine to sustain the number of registered
members of their family, but there are so many illegal and illegitimate children that we have more than
enough work smuggling extra food to those who are not registered.
There is a small solar-powered radio sitting on the windowsill over my kitchen sink that is
faintly playing a soft rock song through a veil of static. I cannot tell if Rose is humming along with the
radio, but either way, she adds a complimentary soothing edge to the song. I often wish I had her
musical talent, but of all the qualities Rose possesses that I am jealous of, that is the least important.
She has always been more athletic, intelligent, and driven than me, but even through all that, she has
ensured that I have never felt inadequate in comparison to her. I smile slightly thinking about it, and
about how grateful I am to have Rose in my life.
Without warning a loud bang comes from around the corner, where the front hallway meets the
screen door that opens to our front porch.
Penny! the voice of my younger sister, Isadore, echoes through the house as she bounds down
the hallway and into the kitchen.
Hi, Isa, I say, gathering her up into my lap when she approaches the table. For a seven-yearold she is surprisingly small and I never have trouble picking her up, something she takes full
advantage of. Where's your brother?
Right here, says our brother, Ellis, from down the hallway, entering the house and letting the
screen door slam behind him. He pokes his head into the kitchen quickly, waving to me and Rose,
before retreating to his bedroom for the evening.
When are Mummy and Daddy coming home? Isa asks me, picking up some of the potato
skins that are clumped together on the table.
Soon, I say, lifting her off my knee as I stand and placing her down on the chair. I gather up
most the peeled potatoes and drop them into a large pot on the stove. Rose takes the rest and places
them in a plastic bowl with handles duct taped to the side.
Are you leaving, Rosie? Isa asks, standing on the chair and reaching out to Rose.
Yes, ma'am, Rose replies, walking around the table and picking Isa up into her arms. But
you'll see me tomorrow.
Promise?
Promise. Rose plants a kiss on Isa's forehead and sets her back down on the chair. Keep an
eye on your brother for me, will you?
Isa nods, her grin wider than ever. She and Rose get along so well, it almost makes up for how
distant our parents are. It's not their fault, though, they work so much that they aren't able to spend time
with us. In a way, Rose and I are more like parents to Isa and Ellis and Rose's sister Larissa than both of
our own parents are.
See you tomorrow, Penny, Rose calls as she slips her sandals back on and heads toward the
front door.
Bye, Rose, I call back.

Penny.
Rose is crouching next to my bed, tears pouring down her face, shaking and clutching at my
shoulder.
Rose, what the hell? I say, sitting upright abruptly and swinging my legs off the side of my
bed. I grab her face between my palms and wipe at her tears with my thumbs as she wraps her hands
around my wrists and leans into me, sobbing uncontrollably. What happened?
It's my dad, she says. He's dead. They killed him, they didn't even ask any questions, they
just did it, and they're gonna kill the rest of us too, if they find out
Wait, what? I say, horrified. Killed him? Who?
I don't even know. They brought him into my mom's operation room after a surgery and they
slaughtered him, right in front of her, in front of my mom. She lowered her head into her hands and
continued to sob, her entire body convulsing as I pulled her close to me and held her steady.
I felt chills course up and down my spine. Looking at Rose now, I could see smears of red on
her white t-shirt, as if she'd been pressed up against something that was bleeding or bloody, and I put
together what must have happened. Patrice, Rose's mother, must have come home covered in her
husband's blood and told Rose what happened. What I couldn't figure out, though, was why Rose was
here.
Rose, I say gently, pulling away and looking into her eyes. What does this mean?
She sniffled loudly and wiped at her cheeks with her palms before answering. They know
about the drugs and medicine Quesra's been using for the Illegals. My dad was the one who stole it
from the hospital and they killed him as soon as they found out. My mom knows all about it, and we're
the ones who deliver it. They don't know any of that, but soon enough, they will.
I stare at her, all the blood draining from my cheeks and my eyes filling with tears. I understand
now, why she came to me. We're no longer safe here, not after what we've been doing for the Illegals of
Everett.
Rosie, Rosie, listen to me, I say quietly, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks as well. I
can't leave. Not now, Rose. I can't leave my family, they need me.
They need you to be alive, Rose hisses. If you leave, they'll be on their own, but if you stay
here, you die, and they're on their own anyway.
I shake my head, my mouth gaping and my head reeling. In an instant, everything has changed,
our entire lives turned completely upside down.
How can I leave them, Rose?
Penny?
Rose spins around toward the sound of the voice that has come from my bedroom door. Ellis is
standing there, partially hidden by the shadow of the door, but the moonlight that streams through my
window lights up enough of his face to reveal his horrified expression.
Ellis, I say, standing from my bed and moving toward him. I half expect him to step away
from me, but instead he enters my bedroom and looks between Rose and me with wide eyes.
You have to go, he says, and I stop abruptly.
What?
You can't stay here if they're going to kill you.
Yeah, I whisper. But
I'm almost sixteen, he says quietly. I don't need to go to school. I can take care of Isa, and
Mom and Dad.
I can't ask you to do that, Ellis, I say, shaking my head.
You're not asking, I'm telling you, he says. You're leaving, you have to. Aspen, I am telling
you to go.
We stare at each other in silence. I know there's no use arguing with him, especially since he's
absolutely right. I can't stay, not now.

Okay, I say. I try to say something more, but the words get caught in my throat and the reality
of the situation begins to set in. I'm leaving my family, and just like that my entire life is going to
change. Ellis' eyes begin to water and I pull him toward me and hold him close. I realize all of a sudden
how tall he's become and how he's not the little kid I used to pick on anymore. He's more than capable
of taking care of our family, and I know that somewhere deep inside me I've known that for a long
time. That does not, however, make letting him go any easier.
Promise me something, Ellis, I whisper.
Anything.
Don't you ever do to Isa what I'm doing to you.
He pulls away and looks at me with the most pained expression I have ever seen on him, and I
know exactly why. He will never have to do this to Isa because he has always been more cautious than