Children of Exile by Margaret Peterson Haddix

her?
    I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
    â€œEverything’s okay, Bobo,” I said gently, even though it felt like a lie on my tongue. “This is our real mother. We’re going home with her.”
    The woman harrumphed, as if she could hear the doubt in my voice. But then she took Bobo by the hand, pulling him out into the aisle. I stuck close beside him, which meant that I blocked the way for the woman to walk toward the back door of the plane. She started toward the front instead, tugging Bobo with her. I snatched up Bobo’s and my knapsacks and followed along. No way was I letting him out of my sight.
    But the woman had a slow, halting gait, and Bobodawdled, glancing back after every other step to make sure I was still there. This meant I had too much time to think between my longer-legged strides.
    What if I refuse to go with this woman? What if I say I don’t think it is safe for me or Bobo? What would I say that was based on? Her appearance?
    It was wrong to judge people based on how they looked.
    Or would I say it’s because she didn’t know the right past participle form of “grow”? Or because she was nicer to Bobo than she was to me?
    That made it seem like I was just jealous and petty and mean.
    Anyhow, what else could Bobo and I do besides going home with this woman? Who could I appeal to? It was always parents who were supposed to protect their kids, parents you were supposed to tell if you were afraid. Or some other trustworthy adult. But no Freds had come with us. The mean whiskery man and his friends didn’t even care if we had food. And anyway, I hadn’t seen a single one of them since we landed. If they’d cared at all, they would have stopped the stampede of adults grabbing kids.
    Bobo hesitated and glanced back at me beside the row of seats Edwy had sat in. I nodded reassuringly at Bobo, and he faced forward again and kept walking. I had to turn my head to the side to try to collect myself.
    That’s when I saw a paper crumpled on the floor in front of Edwy’s seat.
    It figures Edwy would leave trash behind, I thought. It figures he wouldn’t care about littering.
    I wanted to think of him that way. I didn’t want to think that even Edwy might been overcome and snatched up like Aili was. I didn’t want to think that this paper could be something he’d intended to hold on to that he’d lost, like Aili lost her red bow.
    I leaned over to pick up the paper, and it wasn’t a napkin or a sandwich wrapper. This paper felt stiff and official, and when I flattened it out, it held a long row of stern words in dark ink on the white paper:
    Be It Known:
    Under the terms of Addendum 468 to Agreement 5062, none of the people commonly known as “Freds” shall be allowed to return with the children. Their presence has been judged to be too provocative, and therefore dangerous. Instead, only those of the neutral third party hired to make the exchange shall be allowed to accompany said children. And all people of this neutral third party shall depart within twenty minutes of the last child being reunited with the lastparent. As long as the parents and others of their ilk continue to meet the terms of Agreement 5062, they will then hold total sovereignty and control over . . .
    The paper was torn, so I couldn’t see what parents had control over. Their children, I guessed. This had to be the decree that had caused such panic back in Fredtown. Edwy being Edwy, he’d somehow managed to swipe a copy in all the chaos.
    But who would think Freds are dangerous? I wondered. And—provocative?
    I didn’t know what that word meant, but it sounded like “provoke.” The Freds always scolded Edwy for provoking trouble. They would never provoke anyone. They were always trying to stop trouble and resolve every problem in a peaceful way.
    Does Edwy understand what this means? I wondered.