1 Chapter 1

I live in a city that thrives on routine. The same thing at the same time in the same place. Every day. I'm no exception; for example, every day after school, I ride my bike to the grocery store for a box of Lemonheads, then return to my house to eat them as I do my homework. Today is not unlike the other days; the school bell rings to signal the end of the day and I pack my standard black backpack with my books, walking outside. The air is fresh, with a slight hint of evergreen, and I breath in deeply, hopping on my bike. Riding down the clean streets, I take in the sights of the city, as I do every day. The beige houses are lined up in neat rows with emerald green lawns and freshly painted fences. As I continue my journey to the store, something catches my eye, and I skid to a halt. There's a large poster hanging on the wall of a building. "Strange..." I mutter. "There's never posters hanging up." I cautiously take a step closer, seeing a boy's face on it. He looks to be about my age, with wavy, light brown hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. I read the sign out loud quietly, "Missing. Thomas Freeman, 5'10", last seen at Hawthorne Park." I know I should report the poster, but instead, I find myself reaching towards my phone, taking a quick picture and stare at the poster, trying to make sense of it all.

Realizing I'll be in huge trouble if I'm not home at 3:15, I clamber back onto my bike. The rest of the ride is uneventful: the loss of a dollar bill to the purchase of candy and change jingling in my pocket. My phone rings suddenly, blaring a Journey song, and I pull over to answer the call. It's my mom. This means trouble. "Hello?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

I barely get the word out of my mouth before she says sternly, "Where are you? You were supposed to be home five minutes ago!"

I sigh deeply, but I need to come up with a lie, and fast. I'll be grounded if she finds out about the poster. "I... forgot my backpack in class."

Her voice grows quieter, definitely disappointed. "We raised you better than this, Quinn. What will people say? You know that this is the kind of thing our city disapproves of. Remember our motto?"

I say it with her, "Order and routine are key to a thriving society." Really rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?

"I expect you to be home soon," she says, hanging up before I can respond.