OW DID IT GO?” Jeb asked, when we got inside half an hour later.

“Great!” Dylan reported enthusiastically. “I did it! Max is a great teacher.” Before I had time to react, he put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed.

“He’s a natural,” I said, looking at Jeb and wiggling free of Dylan’s arm. “A quick study. Won’t need much more help from me.” I crossed the room and cut a piece of cake, feeling myself flush.

“The flock has been filling me in,” Jeb said. “And I see you all turned a year older today.”

“Yep.” I took a big bite of cake and perched on the sofa arm to eat it. Clearly Jeb had taken in the remains of the birthday party — the cake, the balloons, the decorations. Years ago, he’d organized the parties and bought the presents and got the ice cream. Well, he’d given up his right to do that. We didn’t need him anymore — not for anything. I hoped it broke his heart. “So, Jeb, why are you here?”

“I miss you guys,” Jeb lied. I knew him too well. “I wanted to get you caught up on CSM stuff. And I wanted Dylan to see you again, and vice versa. Being with the flock is exactly what Dylan needs. Already, in half an hour, you’ve taught him more about who he is, what he is, than he’s learned in eight months.”

“So how did you get a hold of him?” I asked. “I thought he belonged to Dr. Hunca-Munca. You just asked the doc to borrow him for a road trip?”

“I’m standing right here,” Dylan said, sounding irritated. “But that’s okay. Talk about me like I’m not.” He crossed his arms over his chest as Jeb looked at him in surprise.

“That’s the tricky part, Jeb,” I said snidely. “You guys are always stunned when your little creations, your science projects, turn out to have minds of their own. To want to do stuff for themselves instead of falling into line with whatever you have planned for them.” I pointed to Dylan. “He’s an actual person. He’s alive. He’s not just a bunch of genes that happen to function! When are you gonna learn? When are you going to quit playing God?”

“I didn’t create Dylan!” Jeb protested.

“But you brought him here so our skills could rub off on him, right? What about our skills of disobedience? Independence? Our inability to live in cages?” My voice had been rising, and now I realized that everyone else had gone silent. “What if all that rubs off on him?”

Jeb rose to his feet. “I got you out of those cages!” he snapped.

“You’re also the one who put us in those cages in the first place!” I was fuming. “You always seem to forget that part!”

“And you always forget that I saved your lives!” Jeb yelled. I’d never seen him so angry — none of us had. “Not just once, but over and over! If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead by now! If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be alive in the first place!”

The others were staring in shock. Looked like I’d blown our little party to all get-out.

“Which one of us regrets that more, I wonder?” I said, and then I ran to the front door and jumped.