Chapter 19
While I’d love to spend all day poring over my mother’s file, I sense my welcome is wearing thin.
I’ve already spent an hour in Kallister’s office, and he clearly doesn’t want to leave me alone in his quarters but is too polite to kick me out.
By the third time he very obviously walks past the doorway, I force myself to close the file.
I barely made a dent in it, but hopefully there’ll be time to read more of it later.
Truthfully, maybe some time to absorb what I did read wouldn’t hurt.
It’s not every day you find your own death certificate.
“Why don’t we arrange a standing engagement?” he suggests. “Perhaps dinner here in my quarters once a week? That’ll give you time with the file, and I won’t have to rush you out.”
“That sounds great. Thank you.” I pause in the doorway, then awkwardly reach for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “I really appreciate this, Kallister. You don’t know how much it means to me.”
“I think I have an idea.”
I’m supposed to take Xavier to the shooting range, but I’m too distracted to handle firearms right now, so I go to the mess hall instead.
I grab a cup of coffee and sit alone in the corner, absently tracing the rim of the cup with my index finger.
I had no idea the lengths to which Jim and my mother went to smuggle me out of the city. A fake death certificate?
And the body at the fire scene? Was that also fake?
Troubled, I reach out to Cross. My real superpower, in my opinion, is the ability to use my powers without detection. My veins never betray me.
“You’re not back in a cell, are you?” I ask him, surprised he’s actually linking with me. He’s been hard to pin down lately.
He sounds weary when he responds. “No. Just finished an Intelligence briefing.”
“I thought Travis was shutting you out.”
“He was. This was my first briefing in weeks. He keeps sending me out on bullshit assignments in the wards to prove my loyalty. Security detail, for fuck’s sake. Had me shadowing one of his capitalist cronies last night in the Point.”
“What was the briefing about?”
“How to root out the rest of the loyalist Mods that went into hiding after the Jubilee. There are still hundreds unaccounted for.” Cross pauses. “Lyddie was at the briefing.”
The thought of Lyddie sets my teeth on edge. I don’t want that traitorous quat on the same planet as Cross, let alone in the same room.
“And what did my old friend have to say?” I ask tightly.
“Not a thing. She was too busy hanging on my brother’s every word. I think someone’s on for Travis.”
I grind my teeth harder. I remember all the times Lyddie commented on how attractive Cross is, how she blushed when I teased her about liking him.
Well, too bad, Lydia. You’re not his type and he’s fucking taken.
Ugh. Fine. That was petty. I own it.
Although Cross can’t see me, he senses the change in my mood. “You’re angry.”
“Oh, you mean because you were sitting in the same room as the people who want to kill our kind and the girl who’s responsible for getting me sentenced to death and you were perfectly content to not do a thing about it? Why would that make me angry?” Sarcasm drips from my every word.
“What would you have me do instead?” he asks quietly. “Kill them all and shoot my way off the base? Hike through the Blacklands to their base and be greeted with a bullet to the skull?”
“How about not spending time with Lyddie? That would be a fucking start.”
Silence fills my mind, but I know he’s still there. Waiting for me to calm down. To take a breath. I do, allowing the anger to flow through me and dissipate. Yet the unhappiness remains. I understand that he’s in an impossible situation, but…Lyddie? He’s playing nice with Lyddie?
“Daisy?” he says roughly. “Are we good?”
I slowly release the breath. “We’re good.” I hesitate for a beat. “Kallister gave me access to my mother’s file this morning. I found my own death certificate.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Turns out my mother and Jim faked my death in a fire. But there were actual remains discovered at the scene. Do you think they killed a kid?”
“Doubt it. All children are logged into the system. If one had gone missing, it would’ve eventually been flagged.”
“Then how did they get their hands on human bones? The medical examiner tested them, and the DNA matched mine. I assume those records were doctored, but how do you explain the body?”
“If I had to guess, they got access to the morgue in the Point. Probably grabbed a body before it was incinerated.”
A shiver rolls through me. That’s gruesome, but I wouldn’t put it past Uncle Jim. I could see him doing that, especially if he loved my mother the way Kallister claims.
No, the way Jim claimed.
What was it he wrote in his letter?
I loved her deeply, despite what she was.
Did he love her as a friend, or was he in love with her? Either way, it’s depressing. He loved Marina so deeply that he was willing to walk away from her and take custody of her only child. And by his own account, he continued to love her even after she was revealed to be a traitor.
Could I do that? Still love Cross if he betrayed me?
I gnaw on my bottom lip, realizing…
Yes.
I would.
I suppose Uncle Jim and I have that in common.
I enter my quarters just as Xavier is stepping out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, and his bare chest glistening with droplets falling from his wet hair. My gaze fixes on the tattoos on the left side of his rib cage. Black roses intertwined with thorny vines.
“Sorry,” I say as I close the door. “Wasn’t expecting you to be half naked.”
“It’s keen. Feast your eyes, Darlington. I don’t mind.”
I snicker and walk toward the closet, where I grab a gray zip-up sweatshirt. “Nice ink. It’s like a very scary garden.”
“The women seem to like it. The men, too.” He pauses. “I just realized…I’m irresistible to literally everyone.”
“Trust me, I can resist you,” I say, slipping the sweatshirt on. “I’m going to take a walk and clear my head before I need to meet Hawkins. We can hit the range after my training.”
“You want company on the walk?”
“Nah. Will you be okay alone for a while?”
“Do I have a choice?” He lumbers past me and flops onto his bed, towel and all.
I open the top drawer of the nightstand, pulling out the entertainment tablet Gray gave me the other day.
“Here,” I say, tossing it to Xavier. “There’s an entire film library on this. I’ll be back soon.”
Although I know I’m not obligated to, I notify Adrienne that I’m leaving the Dagger.
She tells me to take a weapon, so I stop at the armory first to log one out.
I guess Gray wasn’t kidding about the white coyote packs around here.
Adrienne confirms they’re more vicious than the ones that skulk on the outskirts of ward villages.
The morning sun is climbing higher in the sky as I step outside. Soon it’s beating down on my head and I’m so hot, I unzip the sweatshirt and tie it around my waist.
I follow a path around the side of the mountain in a direction I haven’t yet explored.
I’m startled to see flowers in full bloom along the path, vivid swathes of purples and blues.
It’s late in the season for the bluebonnets, and either I’m imagining it, or the purple ones are violet bells.
I’ve never seen one outside of the Blacklands, and I give them a wide berth because I’m not in the mood for temporary paralysis right now.
It’s quiet out here. No birds chirping, no insects humming.
A sense of peace washes over me as I reach a small grove overrun with tall grass and an endless sea of wildflowers, but the serenity sharpens into caution when I hear a rustling in the grass.
A blond head pops up as the girl who’d been crouching in the grass rises to her full height. It’s Poppy.
She turns, startling at the sight of me.
“Sorry,” I say lightly. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t scared.” She emerges from the grass holding a cluster of bluebonnets.
“Picking flowers?” I say, then cringe at myself for stating the obvious.
“I’m making a bouquet for my mom.” Poppy shrugs. “She loves flowers.”
“Is that why she named you after one?”
“Yeah. Poppies are her favorite flowers. She said naming me Poppy was her way of never forgetting them after they stopped growing.”
I nod in understanding. A lot of plant species completely died out after the Last War, some from the radiation, others slowly fading away for no real reason. Poppies went that route, lasting long after the war before disappearing out of the blue.
The teenager approaches a bush that’s low to the ground and kneels, reaching for a tall flower with pale-purple petals.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I warn.
She stiffens, a frown touching her lips. “Why not?”
“It’s a violet bell.” I approach, flashing her a tentative smile before peering at the bush. “Yeah, that’s definitely a bell.”
“I’ve never seen these here before.”
“The violet bell is a mutation. It only blooms every three years. Closest relative in the plant world would be…” I think it over.
“Hemlock, maybe. Bells don’t usually lead to death, but the sap can cause paralysis.
If you get even the tiniest bit on you, you’re facing several hours of lying there paralyzed.
It hits fast, too, within minutes of touching it. ”
Poppy’s blue eyes flicker with alarm. She shuffles backward, as if the purple petals might jump out of the bush and attack her.
“How do you know all that?” She tips her head at me, curious and a little impressed.
“My uncle knew everything there was to know about plants, especially the mutations and hybrids that cropped up after the radiation from the Last War. He taught me which ones to avoid.”
“Oh. Well. Thanks.” She glances at the flowers with a newfound respect. “Why are the pretty ones always the most dangerous?”
I grin. That applies to men, too.