C a t h e r i n e A u s t e n
166
Advance Reading Copy
Xavier lies on his living room carpet, staring at the ceiling.
“Don’t look so sad, Max. He’ll be okay. He might just
need a new patch.” Celeste pats my arm. “We started an
information campaign at the college about the new support
program and how they should warn people on other meds to
be extra-careful. We might do a petition.”
I try to smile.
She looks over her shoulder at her baby brother. “Sunday’s
his birthday,” she whispers.
At home, Mom sighs along with the news.
“The New Education Support Treatment will turn the
tide in our failing education system,” a government rep is
saying. His words are straight from the Chemrose website, all
about community improvement, cost savings, the best inter-
ests of the child.
“What are we going to do?” I ask. “This is every academic
school in the country he’s talking about.”
Mom shrugs.
“I have three years left of school,” I remind her. “Ally has
twelve. Do you really think you can be there for every shot
they give us?”
She bites her lip, shakes her head. “Maybe we should
leave,” she mutters.
“Of course we should leave. You’re a geriatric nurse in a
world full of old people. You can find work anywhere.”
“But your schooling—”
“There are a thousand virtual high schools I could go to.”
“But the quality, Max. I can’t afford—”
“We can’t stay here, Mom!”
