Children of the Underground by Trevor Shane

respond.
    Clara looked at Michael. “It’s nice to see that you’re talking now, Michael. It’s not my given name, if that’s what you mean. We all take pseudonyms when we start working here, hoping that if word got out, it might help to protect our families.” She looked at Michael again. “My given name doesn’t mean anything anymore.” I glanced out the windows behind the woman at the thick, green forest.
    â€œDo you have any other questions you’d like to get out of the way, Michael?” Clara asked. From her tone of voice, I got the impression that she’d had this conversation before.
    â€œWhose side were you on?” Michael asked without looking away from her.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” Clara answered. She picked up a pen and rolled it between her fingers.
    â€œIt matters to me,” Michael answered.
    â€œIt shouldn’t. People here come from both sides of the War. Any other questions?” Clara asked, looking at Michael. When Michael didn’t say anything, she looked at me.
    â€œWhat do the poems mean?” I asked.
    â€œWhat poems?” Clara asked.
    â€œThe ones on the postcards.”
    â€œNothing,” Clara said. “They don’t mean anything. We have a system. We target certain people that we think could use our help. When we identify one of these people, on either side”—she looked at Michael—“we send them the postcards. The only important information in the letters is the place and the day. We keep a list of who might show up and send teams out to pick them up if they do. The poems simply distract people. They’re easier to contact if they have something else on their mind.”
    â€œSo, what happened yesterday?” I asked, confused.
    â€œSimple. When we reached out to Michael, he ran. Our teams know that when that happens, the safest thing to do is to subdue the target and bring him in. If he gets away, we have to worry about our own safety. Secrecy is what keeps us alive. We thought Michael might be running from us so that he could turn us in. We didn’t know that he was running to you.”
    â€œHow do you know who to target?” I asked.
    â€œWe have spies,” Clara answered. “We have spies in the intelligence groups on both sides. They tell us about the people who get into trouble and the people who run.”
    â€œYou have spies?” Michael asked, as if the idea had never occurred to him.
    â€œYes,” Clara answered. “There are spies all over this War. Both sides have spies working inside the other’s organizations. There are double agents. It’s like any other war.” Clara laughed. “And we have spies too. That’s how we heard about you, Michael.”
    They had spies. They could have helped us. They could have hidden us. They could have hidden me and you and your father and we could still be together. We could be a normal family. “If you have spies,” I said, staring at Clara, “why didn’t you help me and Joseph?”
    Clara stared back at me. Her eyes were full of regret. “We tried, Maria. We tried to help you, but it was too dangerous. All we could do was try to warn you when they got close. We did that once. When you were in Charleston, one of our spies reached out and warned Joseph that they were coming for you. We were still monitoring you, waiting for it to be safe to contact you, but you were constantly being watched. Then it was too late.”
    I felt my heart breaking all over again. People had been trying to help us. It made the pain worse. “I’m sorry, Maria,” Clara said. I nodded to her, but I wasn’t able to accept her apology.
    â€œIf you believe so much in your cause, why don’t you fight for it?” Michael asked.
    â€œYou can’t fight war with war. I believe that. And what do you think, Michael?” Clara asked. “You came to us, remember. We just