8

When I get home, Tata is drinking tea and watching the news like he usually does in the afternoon when he’s not working. He claims it’s to help him learn the language, but most days he sits on the couch shaking his head in disgust and then winds up dozing off before dinner.

I settle in on the couch beside him and lean against his warm shoulder. I don’t actually care about the news, but it’s nice to spend some quiet time together that doesn’t involve gardening gloves.

But today, Tata is watching with worried eyes as Mayor Perez makes a speech behind a tall podium. It’s strange to see Krysta’s dad on TV, looking so official and serious in his dark suit. When I see him at Krysta’s house, he’s usually in sweatpants, rushing around yelling about all the things he needs to do.

“What is the mayor saying?” Tata asks me. Then he lets out an embarrassed cough. “I understand the words, but he talks too fast.”

I listen for a minute and then translate. “There are rumors that an Amber reservoir has gone dry. The mayor is saying that we have nothing to worry about in Westbrook.”

I pause again to listen.

“There’s plenty of Amber to go around,” Mayor Perez says through a wide smile. “That means our town’s rationing policy won’t be changing anytime soon.”

That sounds like good news, but the mayor’s voice doesn’t match his face. “Why does he sound so serious?” I ask.

“Because when a politician tells you that something won’t happen,” Tata says, “it almost always means that it will.”

Suddenly Mama throws open the front door, clutching a letter in her hand.

“It’s here!” she cries, pressing the paper to her chest. “It came!”

It takes me a second to understand what she means. Then I jump off the couch and run over to her. I scan the words underneath the official-looking seal. Citizenship application accepted… Swearing-in ceremony… Please report to… Ration cards will be issued…

“Next week!” Tata grumbles when Mama reads the letter aloud. “You’d think they’d give us more warning.”

But Mama’s eyes gleam, and I can tell what she’s thinking. We’re safe. Even if her job disappears, we’ll still be able to stay. We’ll finally be able to use Amber like everyone else.