CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Castor
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Nova attached the bugging device to the underside of Grandfather’s desk while I paced, nausea hitting the back of my throat.
I cut my gaze to the portrait hiding Grandfather’s safe.
There’d been photos mixed in with the files, a glass box filled with blue light and a woman screaming inside.
I couldn’t believe what we found. I didn’t see most of it, not ready for the truth as sweat dripped down my temples.
But I saw enough to know Dominion had hidden something.
Dominion had lied.
Nova handed me a small receiver. ‘The light will flash whenever it picks up sound, and you can flip this switch to listen. Keep it hidden in your room. It has to stay close for the signal to hold. You can tell me what you hear.’
‘Sure. Yeah.’ Anxiety clawed at my voice as I slipped the device into my pocket.
I didn’t hear Nova ask if I was ready; I only saw her lips move.
Soon we were downstairs and back outside in the night, my mind unfocused.
My stomach churned against itself. I couldn’t get that image of the woman screaming out of my head.
It wasn’t Nova in the photo, but that was what she’d endured.
That was what me becoming a Pain Giver had done to her.
As we rounded the corner toward the garage, I ducked behind one of the shrubs. My stomach lurched, emptying itself.
Nova rubbed my back. ‘Are you going to be OK?’
‘Me?’ I croaked. ‘I’m fine.’ Lying was easier than the truth. I wasn’t ready for the truth. Now the truth was saved on Nova’s camera roll. One minute later, we sat in my car as the timer on my solisWatch went off. Our twenty minutes were over.
Nova stared out the window, and we stayed quiet the entire ride to her house.
I needed the silence. I wasn’t sure what I expected to find.
As much as I wanted a cure for Nova, I’d hoped for something else, anything else, to be in those files.
Maybe Grandfather had hidden reports about a low probability of false results in pain-tolerance testing.
That would’ve explained what happened with Nova, Pua’s cousin, the people at the Legacy Party town hall.
False positives were possible, and Dominion hid it all – I could live with that lie.
I’d hate it, but I’d live with it. But a cure?
I didn’t see how I’d move forward with my family if they’d known how to rid the world of helical disease and had done nothing.
I slowed through Nova’s neighborhood, ready to park in front of her house and hopefully walk her to her door. We’d meet tomorrow after getting some rest and go over what we found. Rest sounded impossible. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep.
Nova stopped me before I changed gears. ‘Park around the corner. Then you can come inside, if you want.’
My brows shot up. ‘Inside where? Your house? At two-thirty in the morning?’
She softened. ‘You risked so much for me tonight. You listened to me, supported me. I know you saw what some of those files said. It’s a lot to process. I’m not going to leave and make you go through that alone.’
She placed a hand on my bouncing leg, a reassuring touch.
I calmed and covered her hand with mine.
I drove one more street over, parking out of sight, and followed her back home.
She’d left her window cracked, and I helped shimmy it the rest of the way open.
She didn’t turn on the lights, and she didn’t need to; there was enough illumination from the constellations painted on the ceiling: Ursa Major and Leo, Lynx and Hercules.
Nova pointed to a small door. ‘Bathroom, if you need it. In case your stomach is still uneasy. There’s a fresh toothbrush under the sink.’
I nodded. I needed to get the taste of Dominion’s lies out of my mouth.
Inside, I splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth, then splashed more water on my face. For some reason, I’d always believed that was the answer: get in the water and everything I wanted to forget would wash away. But I could still see that woman behind my eyelids.
I stepped out of the bathroom as Nova stepped in, leaving me alone in her room.
I didn’t know where to sit, so I settled on the floor, leaning against her bed and staring at the painted stars.
Nova’s phone rested on her pillow a few feet away.
I wasn’t ready to see what else was inside those files.
I didn’t want to know what Grandfather had done.
I jumped when Nova touched my arm. ‘You’re shaking.’
I shivered, cold, my stomach burning from throwing up earlier. She was right. This had made me sick. She was right about so many things.
‘We can wait until morning if you’re not ready. It’s OK if you need time.’
Was I ready? Far from it. I was seconds away from reading undeniable proof that my family had hidden a cure for helical disease. But instead of telling her that, I said, ‘I’m ready.’
She took her phone and synced it with an old mini projector on her desk. With a flick of her finger, the holoscreen cast on to the wall. She enlarged a line from one of the lab notes belonging to a Dr Anand, and there it was in plain ink: we found a cure for helical disease.
The words punched me in the gut, all the air rushing from my lungs. A cure existed. There was a cure. There was a cure.
How many people suffered while it existed?
I thought of Perla, forced to live with helical disease, unable to become a Pain Giver.
Then Pua, and her cousin who disappeared.
The server fainting mid-shift. People at the town hall.
The disgust on their faces when they saw me there.
I’d thought it was misplaced, anger built on a lie, but it was justified.
I read on, the scientist detailing her need to share the results with Grandfather, promising follow-up after her scheduled meeting with him an hour later. I recognized the name of the doctor, along with the date of the lab notes. This was right before that same woman would die in a drunk-driving –
‘I can’t.’ Furious tears escaped me. ‘I mean, I need a second.’ I needed so much more than that. My family hadn’t only controlled my life; they’d done it to so many others by hiding a cure.
Nova shut off the projector without a word.
She pulled me to her bed, and we lay face to face.
A hellflare fluttered at her temple but she didn’t move, her expression unchanging.
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she was the one comforting me, tucking my hair out of my face, telling me to rest until I was ready.
She was always the one there for others. I needed to be there for her, for once.
I closed my eyes, wanting to scream. I could still see that woman, trapped in the glass box, her pain glowing blue.
TEN DAYS LEFT
Sunlight streamed through the curtains. I stretched, my legs intertwined with Nova’s.
Nova.
I was in her bed, in her room. She was still sleeping, her braids falling gently over her face. I couldn’t remember the moment we’d fallen asleep, only that she stayed close, giving me the space I needed to process the night. I stiffened as the truth rushed back: Nova never had to carry my pain.
Then, realization shook me – I never had to carry my pain.
Was my family truly that ruthless, or was there more to this than Nova or I understood?
They could’ve found a cure and failed to implement it.
My thoughts reached deep, grasping for an excuse.
I rolled on to my back and tried to lose myself in the constellations painted overhead.
I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to face this, but I had to.
Nova shifted beside me, her eyes fluttering open. Her lips curved a little, a soft sadness to her smile. ‘You could’ve woken me up.’ She reached to run a finger over my cheek, then ruffled my waves. ‘Your hair is a mess.’
‘And yours is far from it, even without your bonnet for a night. Now you know why I always end our calls before you can wake up and see me.’ I started to smile, then corrected myself. ‘Ended our calls, I mean.’ We hadn’t spoken like that since before the interview almost two weeks ago.
She glanced away and untangled her legs from mine, cool air replacing her warmth.
‘How are you feeling?’ She pulled her braids back into one of her high ponytails.
‘I texted Leo last night to keep Skye busy a little longer, so we should have the room to ourselves for a couple of hours if you want to keep going through the files.’
‘Nova –’
The voice came from outside her door, and neither of us had time to react before it opened.
‘Leo took Skye out for breakfast, but I made pan –’ Mr Williams’s voice cut off the second he and I locked eyes. I swallowed, knowing he was seeing his daughter sitting in bed with a boy whose family had used her. I was one hundred per cent sure he hated me.
His face hardened. ‘Why is there a boy in your room? And that boy, of all of them. I thought we were through with his leech of a family.’
I winced. I couldn’t get mad at him.
Nova stood, putting as much space between us as possible. ‘Daddy, it’s not what you’re thinking.’
Mr Williams cut his gaze to me before returning his attention to his daughter. ‘You’re growing into a young woman, and I promised myself I’d let you make your own decisions and mistakes. I only ask that you don’t keep things from me. Why is there a Fox in your room?’
Nova hesitated, and I took the chance to speak.
‘Good morning, Mr Williams.’ I crossed the room to shake his hand, but he didn’t take it.
‘Stop talking, Cas.’ Nova pulled her father from the room. ‘Pancakes, you said?’