Chapter 52
Seph, six months ago.
A leather-clad hand clamped over my mouth.
I jerked awake in my bed, limbs flailing, heart slamming into my ribs.
“Stop— it’s me,” Sable hissed.
I froze.
She crouched beside my bed, dressed all in black, her long golden hair braided tight and tucked beneath a wool cap. There was dirt on her boots. A smear of something dark on her sleeve.
I stared at her. “Sable? What the hell—”
“Get up and get dressed,” she said, already moving. “We’re getting out of here. Now.”
“What do you mean?”
She didn’t answer. She was shoving clothes into my bag with sharp, efficient movements.
The room was dark. My clock glowed faintly—past midnight.
Downstairs, something thudded. A muffled shout. Then another.
“What’s happening?” I whispered, dragging on my jeans.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sable said. “They’re with us.”
“With us?” My hands stilled. “Sable—”
She grabbed my shoulders, hard enough to hurt. “I don’t have time to explain, okay?” Her voice dropped. “But if we don’t get you out of here—”
She stopped.
Whatever she saw on my face made her inhale sharply.
Fear flickered in her eyes. Real fear.
“Okay,” I said.
I trusted her.
Sable’s mouth curved into a quick, almost giddy grin. “Good. I’ve got money and food. You need warm clothes and shoes. Only what you can carry.”
Something light and dizzy bloomed in my chest.
I was leaving.
I was really leaving this place.
A crash sounded downstairs. Glass breaking. My mother screamed.
I flinched. “Sable—”
“Don’t,” she said quickly. “Come on.”
She climbed out the window without looking back. I followed, my hands shaking as I clambered down the tree.
Across the street, I glanced at Kieran’s house. His room was dark, like it had been for years. I wasn’t even sure his mum still lived there.
I missed him anyway.
I hit the ground hard and ran after Sable.
Cars screeched to a stop behind us—guards. Doors slammed. Shouts tore through the night.
We vaulted the fence and sprinted into the cold, breath steaming, lungs burning.
“You didn’t bring a car?” I panted.
“I did,” she said. “I just had to park a little way away.”
We burst through a hedge, branches tearing at my shirt, and the white Toyota came into view, engine idling.
“Get in.”
I didn’t hesitate.
She floored it the moment my door slammed shut.
Blue and red lights flared in the mirrors.
“Fuck,” Sable muttered. “Someone tipped them off!”
She spun the wheel hard, tires screaming, and shot down the road.
“Where are we going?” I yelled, gripping the seat.
“Somewhere safe.”
“Why are you here?” I demanded. “You were in the city. You had a job—”
“Do you honestly think I would forget about you?” Sable snapped. “That job— the one Dad lined up—”
She cut herself off, jaw tightening.
“The medical centre?” I asked.
“Central medical files,” she said, eyes fixed on the road. “The things in there, Seph…” Her voice went thin. “What the Council is doing to people.”
She glanced at me.
“What they’re doing to you.”
“Sable – “
She looked broken. That was my first thought. I wanted to reach for her.
A determined look flooded her eyes. “I won’t let you live like this anymore,” she growled, cutting hard to the right. The car swerved hard and slid into a dirt road towards the beach.
The guards followed.
I spun in my seat and looked.
I could see three men in the car behind us. One leaned out the window holding a gun. He aimed it at our wheels.
“Sable!”
“I see it! Hold on!”
She swerved again, this time spinning the other way. But the shot went wide and hit the front wheel.
I heard the tire explode beneath us. If we had been going a fraction slower, it would have been an easy stop.
The car lost control.
I screamed. Sable desperately tried to stop.
We hit the dunes hard.
Sand exploded through shattered glass, stinging my eyes, clogging my mouth. The airbags detonated, snapping my head back. For a moment, everything rang.
I tasted blood.
I shoved at the door, my hands clumsy and shaking. When it finally gave, I dragged myself free. Sable was already moving — blood smeared across her cheek, her breath coming hard — but she was alive.
“Go,” she rasped. “We have to go.”
We ran.
The sand sucked at my feet, every step heavy, useless. I couldn’t tell if I was moving at all.
A car skidded to a stop above us. Doors slammed. Boots hit the ground.
“Run!” Sable shouted.
Gunfire cracked through the night — sharp, flat pops that made me flinch. I dove into a bush, branches tearing at my skin.
A bullet struck Sable in the shoulder.
She went down hard.
“Sable!” I screamed, crawling toward her.
Then something changed.
Her skin began to glow.
I froze.
Violet light bled through her veins, bright enough to hurt my eyes. She looked at me once — really looked at me — and what I saw there made my chest seize.
Not fear.
Defiance.
She turned.
Ultraviolet light erupted from her hands.
The guards didn’t scream for long.
They were gone in seconds — scorched into the sand like they’d never existed at all.
I couldn’t move.
The hatred in her eyes made me flinch.
More cars arrived.
More guns.
“Run,” Sable growled, stepping in front of me.
Then the bullets hit.
One.
Two.
Three.
They tore into her chest.
Blood sprayed across the sand — across my face.
“No,” I whispered. “No—”
She fell.
I watched her fall.
I watched her stop moving.
Hands grabbed me from behind. A needle bit into my arm. The world tilted.
But I didn’t look away.
All I could see was her.
My sister.
My protector.
Lying broken on the beach.
Dead.
“Sable!”