The whole way home, Switch reasoned that it was only the fancy mods that were glitching out and not the Implant itself. Surely, they were fine, but that reassuring thought was followed by the crushing dread that maybe it was the Implant itself, finally malfunctioning on everyone after all these years. That thought was also followed by a much darker thought that finally, everyone would understand that the Implants only ever did more harm than good. Switch tried hard to banish that thought. Everyone on the continent had an Implant. Did he really want all of them to suffer just for some kind of petty revenge on the man? No. There were some really good people out there, all with Implants because they were never given a choice. Cypher Co injected it before anyone was ever old enough to make up their own mind. He wondered if anyone would willingly give their Implant up, then laughed at that asinine thought. The Implants would never have been allowed to become law unless enough of the people wanted it in the first place. No one wanted to see the world for what it really was any longer. Switch was alone. And would always be alone.

"Mary? Abraham?" Switch called out before he had even crossed the threshold.

There was no answer, but that didn't mean anything was wrong. They could just be out in the greenhouse or feeding the animals.

He went from room to room, searching for them. The other boys wouldn't be home for hours, so he skipped their shared messy rooms, knowing their house parents wouldn't be there.

The boys all had gotten jobs at a construction site in one of the Class Three districts, but Mary had encouraged Switch to stay in school. He often wondered if it was a waste of time, but he stayed, hoping he'd learn something important; something useful. He had to believe that his parents had a good reason for hiding him away when he was born. They had to have known there was something inherently wrong with the Implant and were protecting Switch from something big.

His science and technology teachers only ever sang the praises of Cypher Co and their limitless advancements in medicine, technology, and sustainability. But Switch was learning to read between the lines. Every technology class was teaching him something new about Cypher Co's motives and history.

Switch looked out the tiny kitchen window toward the greenhouse. He couldn't see any movement inside, but the plastic was hard to see through, so he pushed himself away from the sink and headed out the back door to the greenhouse.

The ground was kept free of any vegetation around the greenhouse to give the plants inside the best possible hope for survival. Switch walked along the stone path, occasionally stopping to brush off one of the stones. He took just as much pride in this home as his house-parents did.

Anytime his grandma came to visit, he wanted her to see that he was doing well here and thriving. He wished she were younger and still able to live at home with him, but she had gotten so frail in the last few years. She had decided it would be best for Switch to live with people who could make sure he had a good life, so she checked herself into the Class Four assisted living facility that summer. Their home was sold and just like that, Switch was on his own.

It had taken a while for Switch to adjust to life here on this little farm. Mary and Abraham were patient, gentle souls; easy to like and cared about each of the boys that were brought to them. The boys were harder to get along with. All of them were without parents for different reasons and all of them were coping with that in their own ways.

Switch had given them a wide berth at first, but slowly they all fell into a casual acceptance of one another. Switch was fortunate enough to have scored his own room. If Mary and Abraham ever took in a sixth boy that would change, but Switch was almost old enough to be able to move out and be on his own anyway.

Switch opened the door to the greenhouse and inhaled deeply. The herbs were the first of the fresh smells to hit him. Rosemary was especially strong, but he could smell the oregano and basil underneath. Mary was bent over a bag of plant food, reading the label. That must have been why Switch hadn't seen her when he looked out the window.

"Hey, Mama," Switch said quietly hoping not to startle her, but no such luck. She jumped and put her hand to her heart.

"Oh, Switch, honey. How was school?"

Switch smiled at her normal greeting.

"It was fine," he lied. "Some kids were acting a little funny today, but I'm sure it'll get sorted."

"That's good, that's good," she said distractedly. "Can you help me with this? My eyesight's not what it used to be."

Switch crouched down next to her and flattened out the label. "It says, 'mix one tablespoon per gallon of water and spray around plants. Do not overly saturate the soil.'"

Switch looked around at all the lush green veggies and herbs. Nothing looked like it needed plant food.

"What's this for?" he asked curiously.

"I wanted to try it out on the old apple tree out at the edge of the cow pasture. See if I can coax some life back into it."

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" Switch asked.

"Oh, no one will know. Anyone with any kind of power to do anything already sees that tree full of their fake leaves, so what can a few real ones hurt?"

"What do you see when you look at it?" Switch asked. Switch had just assumed that everyone with an implant saw leaves on every tree.

"I see what I'm supposed to see," she said with a wink. "But I know what real leaves look like," she added in a whisper.

Switch looked around conspiratorially. "Are they different from Implanted ones? How can you tell?"

Switch couldn't answer this question himself, but he couldn't outright say that he had never seen what the Implant did to the leaves. How close were the similarities?

"Spend enough time around plants like I do, and you'll know, too. Take these plants here in this greenhouse. You see everything as green and growing and perfect, right?"

Switch nodded, and not because of any Implant telling him to, but because it was true. Mary took such great care of these plants that they were all actually green and growing and perfect.

"Right, now come over here and look at this little guy." She motioned him toward a corner of the greenhouse where a small bud of some plant was poking through the ground, not in a planter. "The soil is pretty much dead from overfarming. All the nutrients have been sucked out of the ground, but there must have been a splash of plant food that fell here that gave this little guy just enough food to sprout. Now, look at the little one next to it."

Switch bent over to get a closer look. There was a tiny stick coming out of the ground with a few limp little leaves barely hanging on; others were brown and shriveled.

"This one is also green and growing, right?"

Switch nodded because he knew he was supposed to.

"Now, reach out and touch it."

Switch did. One of the little shriveled leaves fluttered to the ground and he felt bad for having detached it from its source even though it was already dead.

"Now, feel the one next to it."

Once again, Switch did what he was told. He was sure that someone with an implant would be experiencing this little lesson much differently than he was, but Mary was, perhaps unknowingly, giving Switch a different kind of life-lesson. These plants, these wonderful, edible plants, required so much more care than Switch had ever realized. It wasn't as simple as just putting seeds in the ground and throwing water on them. Not anymore. They needed so much more than the ground could provide on its own anymore.

"But what if someone has a sensory mod? Wouldn't they just feel live leaves on both plants?"

"Perhaps," Mary said, plucking the dying weed from the ground. "But no one with that kind of money would be caught dead in a greenhouse with real food anyway, so I won't be giving them any botany lessons anytime soon."

Switch laughed. He couldn't help it. Iris had just criticized him for eating real food only a few hours ago, so he knew exactly what Mary meant.

"So, to answer your question, dear, when I cannot trust my own eyes, I trust my other senses, specifically touch. We are all blind now, Switch. Except it isn't darkness that we see around us, it is fantasy. When we can no longer trust one sense, we must rely on our others to tell us the truth of the world."

Switch stood there dumbfounded. He'd never heard anyone talk so openly about their dissatisfaction with the Implant before. He had, perhaps naively, assumed that everyone was happier not seeing. But he realized now that Mary wasn't happier. She knew she was being deceived and she didn't accept it. She wanted to see her plants grow with her own two eyes, not be told that they're alive by the magic trick that is the Implant.

Mary stood and took Switch's hands in hers. "What we say here today cannot leave this greenhouse. Do you understand?"

Switch nodded. He understood all too well what happened to people who spoke out against Cypher Co and their precious Implant. His own parents had disappeared because they didn't blindly accept the propaganda.

"Weird things are happening to the kids with mods," Switch blurted out. The safety bubble of this place was working its magic on Switch and he needed to unburden himself on someone. Now he knew Mary that would understand the seriousness of what was happening.

"What do you mean, weird things?" she asked with a frown.

Switch looked at the still-closed doors of the greenhouse and squinted to try to see outside to be sure they were alone. "They were acting strange. Like they were having a stroke or something. Some kids said they went blind for a few minutes and other kids started speaking gibberish like they were no longer capable of forming real words. The teachers and the school nurse were freaked out. No one knows what's happening to them or why."

Mary looked at him for a long moment before answering. "That is interesting," she said finally. "I suspect that tomorrow will tell us a lot more than today can."

"What does that mean?" Switch asked with a frown.

"It means, let's wait and see what we see tomorrow. You come and find me after school and we can have another nice chat about these plants. In fact, I think it is time I taught you how to care for these plants on your own. Who knows, maybe even start your own greenhouse." She released his hands and squeezed his shoulder gently.

Switch just nodded, confused by her response. What did plants have to do with the kids glitching out? Did it have something to do with their manufactured foods? Switch had just eaten some of it at Iris's house. He'd been eating with her for years. Could he have ingested something that would make him glitch out, too, even without an Implant? Switch felt nauseous.

Mary had already gone back to feeding the plants, but Switch wasn't ready to end this conversation just yet. He grabbed the hose from its reel in the corner and brought it over to where Mary was crouched.

"Thank you, dear," she said pleasantly. But before Switch could ask any more questions, she added, "Will you go and check on Abraham? He's milking Old Bella out in the barn."

Switch sighed, but couldn't help smiling. "Sure."

He reluctantly left Mary alone in the greenhouse, hoping to hell that this glitch had nothing to do with the food; then feeling guilty for hoping it was a mod that would leave the Class Fours alone and unphased; then feeling doubly guilty for being classist when he hated the other classes for doing that very same thing. Switch had to stop and rub his face to keep his mind from running in these circles that were no help to anyone.

He found Abraham exactly where Mary said he'd be. He was sitting on a low stool with his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, tugging rhythmically on Bella's udders.

Switch stood there for a silent moment, gently rubbing Bella's side, listening to the splash of the milk into the metal pail. Abraham smiled a small smile when he realized Switch was there but didn't look up from his work. Instead, he waited for Switch to speak first. Switch liked that about him. There was something soothing about Abraham's quiet, contemplative nature.

"Mary kicked me out of the greenhouse," Switch teased. "You need anything?"

"Well," he said slowly. "I think Bella's just about done. Can you go grab Little Suzie? I'm sure she's missin' her mama."

Switch patted Bella's back and left the barn again. Switch laughed to himself and shook his head. This farm always felt like going back in time. Here he was walking toward the pasture to retrieve a calf for its mom. The chaos of the cities, the Implants, Cypher Co, school; they all disappeared when he came home to this farm. It was literally and figuratively a breath of fresh air.

Wrangling Little Suzie was proving much more difficult than Switch had thought it would be. By the time he had finally managed to get the rope around Little Suzie, Switch was filthy and exhausted. Of course, once the rope went around her neck, she acted like she hadn't just put up a huge fight, and trotted happily alongside Switch toward the barn.

Bella mooed happily when she saw her daughter, and Switch quickly released the rope from around her neck so that they could reunite.

"I said fetch her, not wrestle with her," Abraham teased placidly. "Go get yourself cleaned up, son."

Switch looked down at himself and tried to beat some of the dust off of his clothes, but when Abraham coughed quietly, Switch took that as his cue to leave.