Harper
Two days later I was on a stage in Central Hall with the whole camp lined up in front of me, which was roughly the last place a girl who'd spent six months perfecting invisibility ever wanted to be.
Calloway fastened the band around my wrist herself. B-class. Silver, heavier than it looked, settling against the bone like it had always meant to live there.
She pressed a matching badge into my palm, said "Guide Ellis" in her flat clipboard voice, and the hall came apart with applause and a couple of whistles I was fairly sure were Sonia.
Seven months ago I was an E-class mopping corridors and catching rolling bottles of antiseptic. Now I wore regulation silver, four rungs up from the bottom, with clearance for doors I used to mop in front of.
We'd hauled the cold-storage cache ou
