“I had to tell the teacher that Mark just had an imaginary friend named Luke,” Luke’s mother had told him. “But I worried about that for months afterward. I was so scared the teacher would report you, and the Population Police would come and take you away. I’m just glad that a lot of little kids do have imaginary friends.”

She’d bitten her lip telling Luke that story. Luke could still see the strained expression on her face. She hadn’t even told him about that episode until the day before he left the farm and his family for good. By then she’d meant the story as assurance, he knew — assurance that he was doing the right thing by leaving.

At the time, Luke hadn’t known what to make of that story It just added to the jumble of confused thoughts and fears in his head. But now — now that story made him angry. It wasn’t fair that he’d had to be invisible. It wasn’t fair that his brother couldn’t talk about him. It wasn’t fair that the Government had made him illegal simply because he was a third child and the Government thought families should have no more than two.

Luke stepped out into the sunshine feeling strangely happy to be so angry. It felt good to be so sure about what he thought, so totally convinced that he was right and the Government was wrong. And if Mr. Hendricks really did have a plan for Luke, it’d be good to hang on to this righteous anger.

The two boys climbed down an imposing number of marble steps. Luke noticed that They glanced back longingly at the school more than once. Not Luke. Hendricks had no windows — to accommodate the fears of kids like They — and Luke always felt slightly caged anytime he was inside.

They walked on down the lane to a house half hidden in bushes. Mr. Hendricks was waiting for them at the door.

“Come on in,” he said heartily to Luke. “They, you can go on back to school and see about learning something for once.” That was a joke — They had done nothing but read while he’d been in hiding, so he knew as much about some subjects as the teachers did.