Location: Rocky Mountains Date: April 19, 2012 | Time: 2:00 PM

  My name is Mia. I’m seventeen years old, and I work at an "escape home" for kids. Think of it as one massive boarding school hidden in the mountains, capable of housing five thousand people. Right now, we have about two thousand runaways living with us. We operate under our own laws and utilize high-tech systems the outside world doesn't even know exist.

  I was rescued ten years ago. In 2002, my brother Shay built this base. Since then, we’ve been pulling kids out of a foster system the world calls "safe." We know better. We call ourselves "Ghost Kids" because, to the rest of the world, we don't exist.

  Most of the kids here are runaways or "criminals" in the eyes of the law—usually caught stealing just to survive. Today, I’m the one heading down the mountain to steal enough money to feed two thousand mouths. My target? Walmart’s corporate headquarters. Look, I’m not a bad person. I’d never dream of stealing from families or the poor, but it’s hard to get legitimate funding when you're a ghost.

  Ring. Ring. Ring.

  I glanced at the hologram screen. "Hey, Smart Car," I commanded politely. "Answer the call."

  "Answering now," the car’s robotic voice responded.

  "Hey, Shay. How’s the babysitting going? Are the twins—Sarah and Kayla—behaving?" I asked.

  "It's going fine," Shay replied. "How far out are you from the target?"

  "Twelve minutes. I love the new features on this car, by the way," I said, admiring his tech work. The LED lights reflected off the mountain sunset, making the car look like something out of a sci-fi movie.

  "Glad you like it. Just remember: don't get caught," Shay said, his voice dropping. "You and the twins are all I have left. I can’t lose you to the police."

  "Please," I teased. "I’ve been driving and stealing since I was nine. I learned from the best—except for combat. I still own you there."

  Shay chuckled softly. "I know. I still can’t beat you, and I’m two years older! Every time I try, I’m on the ground in five seconds. Even when we were little, I could never sneak up on you. It’s like you have a sixth sense." He paused, then shifted gears. "Oh, by the way, what are we doing for dinner? Rations are a little low. Should we do meatloaf or chicken tenders? The farm class grew a ton of green beans this month."

  "I’m down for chicken tenders," I exclaimed. I looked ahead at the highway sign for Denver and Salt Lake City. Suddenly, a wail cut through the air. Blue and red lights flashed in my rearview mirror. A cruiser was right on my tail.

  "Shay, I have to go. I’m about to get into a high-speed chase," I said, my pulse quickening. "There are three cruisers behind me. I think I can lose them. See you at dinner!"

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  "Mia! I told you not to get caught!" Shay yelled, sounding worried. "Just... make sure you lose them. Love you, bye."

  I slammed on the gas, but as I rounded the bend, I saw a blockade of police cars. They were waiting for me. I had a few thousand dollars on me intended for supplies for the newcomers, but there was no way through.

  Screeeech! I slammed on the brakes.

  "This is the police!" a voice boomed over a megaphone. "You are surrounded! Step out of the vehicle with your hands up!"

  "Smart Car, send an encrypted distress message," I whispered. I stepped out, hands raised. Within seconds, an officer grabbed me and slapped a cheap pair of metal cuffs onto my wrists. "You have the right to remain silent," he barked.

  Location: Police Station Time: 3:00 PM

  "Hand over your belongings. Now," the officer ordered.

  "No," I said firmly. He slammed me down onto the metal interview table and began emptying my pockets. First, a photo of Shay holding the twins on his shoulders at a campfire. Then, the two thousand dollars I’d stolen a month ago.

  "No, stop! That was supposed to last us through two winters!" I shouted. Finally, he pulled out my custom-built phone. The screen lit up with frantic messages from Shay: Mia, are you okay? What happened? Answer me!

  "Who’s Shay?" the officer asked.

  "My brother," I said sternly. "And you should let me go before he comes to break me out."

  The officer ignored the threat and sat down. "I’m surprised. You look eighteen, yet you managed to steal twelve thousand dollars and spend it all on... kids' toys and clothes. Why?"

  "I run an organization for kids in the foster system who don’t want to be separated," I said confidently. "They come willingly. I’m not a kidnapper. I built a community. Leave my brother out of this." I leaned forward. "Now tell me—how did you actually catch me?"

  "We’ve been tracking your 'base' for years," he replied. "We found a coded flyer that said Ghost Kids: Call for Help. We set a trap with a voice actor, tracked the call, and found the general location in the mountains. By the way, how old are you really? Nineteen? Twenty?"

  "I’m seventeen," I snapped.

  "And your name?"

  "Mia."

  "That’s not your real name. There’s no Mia with a brother named Shay in this entire state," he countered.

  "I want to speak to someone else," I said.

  "I can't let you do that," he replied.

  I stood up, my hands completely free. The handcuffs sat open on the table. "Yes, you will. I’m leaving unless you bring me someone else to talk to."

  The officer stammered, "How... how did you do that?"

  "How do you think I stole twelve thousand dollars without getting caught until now?" I asked. "I can disappear from cameras and hack systems in my sleep. The only reason I haven't walked out of here yet is because I don't want every cop in the state on my tail the second I hit the door."

  Just as I reached for the door, it swung open. A woman in her mid-thirties with graying hair and a sharp blue suit walked in, clapping slowly. Her nametag read Detective Vance.

  "You are an interesting one, Mia," Vance said, dragging a chair out. "Most criminals I see can't get out of handcuffs in under sixty seconds."

  "I'll stay," I said, checking the clock. It was 3:30 PM. "But only until four o'clock. I have to get home to feed two thousand kids—the only real family I’ve ever had."

  "Good luck with that," Vance whispered. "There’s a whole floor of police wondering how a teenager hacked major corporations and ordered thousands of dollars in food and supplies under a dead man’s name. Who taught you this? Are you a spy?"

  "Fifteen minutes until I leave," I mocked. "Ask me a real question."

  "Fine. What is your real name?"

  I sighed. "You want the full name? Fine. Knezy Mia Joinsen."

  Vance gasped, dropping her notebook. "The Joinsens? The mystery case from five years ago? Four siblings under the age of ten vanished from foster care in the middle of the night. We thought you were all dead."

  "Well, we’re very much alive," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "And whether you like it or not, I’m leaving in ten minutes." I stood tall, looking more like a soldier than a seventeen-year-old girl.

  "Sit down!" Detective Vance shouted.

  I just laughed. "All right, all right."