"I'm not shaving my hair off. Not happening ever." I stand my ground, trying to make my voice sound forceful but I'm exhausted.

The walk back was uncomfortable. I must have got food poisoning from something I've eaten because I've spent the whole day trying not to vomit. Every smell makes me want to hurl: the grass, the air, our sweaty bodies.

Right now, I'm battling the ongoing nausea whilst trying to protect me and Orla from Sienna who for some crazy reason has been entrusted with a sharp electric tool.

"It feels really good." Sienna waves around the still buzzing razor whilst stroking her head; exhibiting extreme signs of both pleasure and revulsion as her fingers run through the now incredibly short spiky hairs on her scalp. It's amusing to watch but it does not entice me to join in with the head shearing.

I force myself not to turn my back and run into the house. I wouldn't put it past Sienna to come after me, attempting to shave mid chase and I'll end up losing a lot more than just my hair.

"Labour Camp inmates all have their hair shaven off upon entry then we're forced to make them into wigs," Wes says.

"You're joking, right?" Orla says as she cowers behind me.

"Labour camp is no joking matter." Wes crosses his arms.

"I'm not even exiting the truck so I definitely don't need to shave my hair off," I say.

"I don't want to shave mine." Orla sequels from behind me.

"Isn't there an alternative, Wes?" I ask.

Wes frowns and we wait for him while the sound of the buzzing razor fills the silence. Finally, he says, "You can wrap your hair up in fabric. Women would do that to cover their bald heads but if any stray hairs are seen by Officials you'll be caught and we will not try to save you."

"Understood," I say.

Orla nods in agreement and Sienna lowers the buzzing razor glumly.

"All of us need to be in agreement on that point. If someone messes up or gets caught, we don't intervene, no matter what. The aim is to get as many of the cameras attached and filming and to find the inmates we're looking for then leave," Wes says forcefully while his fingerless palms connect.

"What is it like at the labour camp?" Orla asks.

"I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy," Wes says flatly before walking into the house. So much for Wes explaining what Labour Camp is like to prepare Orla.

I grab the razor out of Sienna's hand and pack it away. "Just in case you slip."

"I won't slip but I'd definitely shave your hair off when you're not looking so best keep it away from me for the foreseeable future." Sienna laughs and bounds off into the house.

"She's mad," Orla mumbles.

"She's not. Sienna just does and says what we don't have the courage to. She doesn't care what people think of her. It's kind of admirable really," I say.

"You don't care what people think of you," Orla says.

I shrug. That's not entirely true. My whole life has been about avoiding people because I'm worried about what they'll think and do if they know I'm unmarked. In other aspects of my life, I haven't needed to worry what people think because I never tried to develop proper relationships. Now, I don't worry about what people think of me; I'm still trying to work out what I think of myself and the things I've done.

"Charlie always said I worried too much about what people think. That I should do what's right by me even if it goes against The State," Orla says quietly.

"Easier said than done."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"But you did in the end. You removed your Birth Brand," I say, gesturing at the large scar in between her collar bone.

Orla frowns, her fingers quickly reaching for it as though she expects the numbers and gold circle to still be there. "I did that out of anger. My meant to be fiancé's family were having second thoughts because of my parents being sent to a Labour Camp. When they found out Charlie had been taken in for questioning by Officials several times they refused to let us get engaged. He told me he couldn't go against them. We'd made all these plans and then I had nothing."

"Orla, you're young, you could have found someone else," I say gently.

"I don't want anyone else. I know you all think something is going on between me and Max but I'm just helping him through a difficult time," She says stiffly. "Once this is all over, me and me fiancé will be together and things will work out how they were meant to."

I don't burst her bubble and tell her that isn't going to happen. Not anytime soon. I'm not in denial. I'm being realistic they'll be no happy ending for us whether the end is in a few days or the second time we try to enter a labour camp or maybe even the third. I've accepted my expiry date is pretty soon and it doesn't upset me if it gets The Organisation one step closer to exposing The State. If it means Grey's death wasn't pointless.

And if by some miracle we do survive this attempt, I'm going to do something I promised myself I would do. I'm going to attempt to get Teddy out. I spoke to Zed today and in return for promising to see Charlie, he said he'll ask his informant to find where Teddy has been sent. I'm determined to find him and get him out. It will be my way of trying to make amends. He's there because of me.

"Let's get some food and go to sleep," I say.

"Yeah, we could all do with a good night's sleep." Orla smiles, linking my arm, I allow her to pull me into the house.

I don't mention one night is not enough. I have years of disrupted sleep to catch up on. All I've known is nights interrupted by nightmares of my life.