Chapter 45
Harlow
I’m being held captive in my own bungalow.
The female shifter stands near the door, arms crossed, while three male shifters position themselves strategically around the small space.
There are more of them patrolling outside.
Like I’m going to try something stupid, like try to escape through a window.
At least they let me change into actual clothes. I chose jeans and a T-shirt.
“You can sit,” the female shifter says, gesturing to the two-person table in my kitchenette.
I do as she says. They aren’t rude to me, but they’re firm.
One of the male shifters brings me water. Another offers breakfast, but my stomach is like a ball of lead. The thought of eating makes me feel sick.
“I need to see Drake,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.
No response. Just blank, impassive faces.
I wait a few minutes, then try again. “Please. I need to speak with Councilor Drake…my mind-bond.”
Still nothing. It’s like talking to statues.
Time seems to crawl by. I watch the light change outside my window. By this stage, a couple of hours have gone by.
“Get up,” the female shifter finally says.
“Are you taking me to him?”
I’m not sure why I even asked because I get nothing.
I stand and follow her outside. A black chopper descends onto the clearing near my bungalow, kicking up dust and debris.
I’m loaded into the helicopter and immediately flanked by two shifters. Two more sit across from me, their gazes unwavering.
The female shifter buckles me in.
“Where are you taking me?”
By now, you’d think I’d have realized that asking them anything is futile.
I understand why having a cellphone is bad, but this seems over the top. What do they think I’ve done?
The flight lasts about ten minutes. We land in an open area outside a large, imposing structure.
From the helicopter, I’m transported into a building with the same level of heavy security. Four shifters surround me. We move through stark white corridors.
They place me in a holding cell.
I stand in the doorway, taking it in. A toilet and basin. A mattress on the floor covered in tight, crinkly plastic. No bedding. No pillow. Nothing else.
I’m being treated like a criminal.
“What is this?” I whisper.
“Go inside.”
I get a soft shove, and the door is closed.
The lock clicks into place with a finality that makes my chest constrict.
With nothing else to do, I lie down on the mattress. The plastic crinkles beneath me, cold and uncomfortable. I stare at the ceiling, counting the tiles, trying to keep my breathing steady. Trying hard not to cry.
I’m not there for all that long when different shifters in the same type of uniform appear at my cell and order me to get up. Again, there are four of them. The formation is identical to before. One on either side of me, one in front, one taking up the rear.
I’m a puny human. I’m weak compared to them, and yet they’re treating me like I’m some sort of assassin or a flight risk.
I’m not.
I’m just confused and scared and desperate to clear this up. There has to be a logical explanation. There has to be.
She wouldn’t do this to me. I can’t find it in me to believe it.
They escort me down more fluorescent-lit corridors until we reach a room with a table and two chairs, both bolted to the floor.
My heart beats way too fast. My palms are sweating. I wipe them on my jeans, but they’re instantly clammy again.
The door opens.
Drake walks in, and I huff out a breath of relief.
“It’s you. I’m so glad you came.” My voice is small.
He’s here. He’ll fix this. He’ll believe me.
But he’s stiff and formal as he takes the seat across from me. His expression is guarded.
“Harlow,” he says, his voice clipped. He points at the camera in the corner. “This interview is being recorded.”
I look up, and sure enough, there is a camera mounted in the corner. Its red light blinks at me.
I nod, my throat tight. Please, I pray silently. Please let this demeanor be because of the camera. Please believe me. Please know I had nothing to do with this. Whatever this is.
“Councilor Reed received an anonymous tip in the early hours of this morning,” Drake begins, his eyes locked on mine but somehow not seeing me. “The caller stated that one of the trainee riders had an illegal cellphone in their possession. They gave your name.”
My stomach drops.
“We’ve attempted to trace the call, but it came through a series of relay stations and encryption protocols designed to mask the origin. By the time our tech team worked through the layers, the trail went cold.”
“Drake, I—”
He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “The cellphone in question was found in your bedroom, hidden in a well-concealed slit in your mattress.”
“The cellphone isn’t mine,” I tell him.
“That’s hard to believe, Harlow, since it was found in your bungalow. In your mattress.”
“I swear it isn’t mine.” My voice cracks, and I hate how desperate I sound.
“I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen—” I stop, shaking my head.
I don’t want to believe this. I don’t want to believe that someone I trusted would plant evidence in my room.
That they would betray me like this. “No. I just…I can’t. I can’t believe she would…”
For the first time, Drake shows a flicker of emotion. Frustration tightens his jaw, and his eyes flash with something that might be pain. Then it’s gone.
“Speak up, Harlow. Tell me who, according to you, the phone belongs to.”
According to you. It hurts like a blade to the gut.
I close my eyes, feeling like I’m about to throw up.
“I saw Jordyn with the cellphone. It was around two and a half weeks ago. She was off sick that day, and I went to her bungalow to check on her. When I walked in, she had the cellphone in her hand. She told me that Dani had one too. That they’d smuggled them in from home.”
Drake’s expression hardens. “There’s no way anything illegal got through our checks.
All Tributes were subjected to full-body millimeter-wave scanners before boarding the flight to the island.
We use advanced imaging technology that can detect contraband hidden in body cavities, sewn into clothing, or concealed in luggage.
Every piece of equipment, every item of clothing, every bag was physically inspected and run through X-ray machines.
You know this because you would have been checked yourself. ”
“I was but… I’m telling you what I saw,” I insist. “I know what I saw. I believed my friend. Why wouldn’t I?”
“All of the trainee riders had their bungalows searched this morning,” Drake continues. “Jordyn and Dani included. Neither of them had anything illegal.”
“I promise you, I saw Jordyn with that exact phone. I’m one hundred percent sure it’s the same one I saw in her hand.”
He gets a look of hurt and betrayal before schooling his emotions.
“Why didn’t you say something about this sooner? You should have come to me with this.”
The accusation in his voice cuts me.
“Jordyn is my friend.” My voice sounds small.
“Or at least, I thought she was my friend. I didn’t want to tell on her.
She said it was just a device she’d snuck in to stay in contact with family back home.
I believed her. I didn’t give it a second thought, other than to worry about whether she’d get caught. I had forgotten all about it.”
“Are you claiming that Jordyn planted the cellphone in your room?”
“All of my friends visited me two nights ago. It was Jordyn’s idea. She could have planted it then.” I swallow hard. “But I don’t know for sure.”
“All of the trainee riders are being interviewed,” Drake says. “We’ll ask Jordyn about this.”
I make a noise that’s half laugh, half sob.
“As if Jordyn would confess that she planted the phone in my room. She wouldn’t. It was planted, Drake.” My voice is now laced with anger.
“We’ll also ask the others if anyone saw anything.”
I shake my head, hopelessness washing over me.
“Harlow—”
“I’m being framed.” The words burst out of me, and my voice hitches.
I’m trying not to cry, but tears prick at my eyes anyway.
“I can’t believe Jordyn is doing this to me.
I thought she was my friend. I thought…” I press my palms against the cold metal table, needing something solid to anchor myself.
“She looked sad when she congratulated me on making Mermaid’s Tail yesterday.
She didn’t look like herself. I thought she was upset because she hadn’t made it yet, but now I know she was planning this betrayal.
She was feeling guilty about it. It all makes sense now. She orchestrated this.”
Drake’s expression softens. “We’re going to pull information from the phone. Perhaps we’ll be able to establish who the actual owner is.”
I want to believe that will help, but I know better. “Why would someone plant a phone with evidence that would lead back to them? That would be stupid.”
“We’ll follow all leads and gather all information.
” His voice is back to being distant. “Right now, everything is pointing to you. You should know that the anonymous caller claimed you’re a spy.
That you’ve been giving someone on the Mainland information about what goes on at Draig Island.
” He pauses, his Adam’s apple working. “It’s an offense that could include jail time. ”
“I didn’t do anything.” I bury my head in my hands. The tears are falling now, hot and unchecked. “What now? How long will this take?” I wipe the tears away, sniffing.
“Now we wait. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours before we have everything we need.”
“What if I’m found guilty?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
He stands.
I stand too. “Drake, the phone was planted. Please trust me on this. Logic dictates that they’ll find something incriminating on that phone because it was planted to frame me.” My voice breaks. “You have to believe that I’m innocent. You know me…please.”
His face morphs, for just a second, into something raw…it’s pain and hurt and sorrow and disappointment.
“I hope so,” he says quietly.
Then his expression shutters, going cold and professional once more. He turns and walks toward the door.
Just like that.
He’s leaving. He’s walking away from me.
Worst of all, I don’t think he believes me.
“Drake—” I start, but the door is already closing.
Even after everything, he doesn’t believe me.
It hurts more than anything ever could.