Chapter 4
Elias
“Thanks, Micah.” I accepted the file and set it down beside my plate.
I watched my personal aide go and took another bite of my steak. The dining room was built for twenty. Tonight it was just me.
I glanced at the file. Maryn Veil was printed in large bold letters across the top. I’d been all set on my twelfth selection. It was my fourth pick from the Middle, as instructed, and she was a girl in her final months.
Corrine would have been my perfect twelfth match. It would buy my father favor with the Middle and give me a chance to use my position for good.
Maryn was a wrench. My thoughts circled back to her defiant gray eyes and the way she silently judged me for being inconsiderate to my friend. In twenty-four years, no one had ever been brave enough to show me what they really thought of me.
If only she knew how right she was. Of course I liked Josh. He was a great guy and an even better footballer. But my visit to the Middle had been strategic and I owed him more than that.
I’d go see him again soon.
My gaze drifted to her file again. Choose Corrine. There’s no point in even looking in that file.
I flipped the folder open and scanned the top line.
“Elias, darling, your father wants to see you.”
I looked up. “Okay, Mom. I’ll be right there.”
“Don’t make him wait, okay? He’s in one of his moods.”
I stood, sliding the folder closed, and set my fork down.
“Of course.”
Outside August Hale’s office, a line of advisors and counselors stood rigidly. Inside, a glass shattered. They watched me approach, gazes wary and drawn.
I pushed the door to his office wide and stepped inside. My father didn’t approve of men who cowered or showed fear. Walk like a man. Accept your decisions with pride. If you fuck up, own it. I'd been practicing that walk my whole life.
I stood, shoulders squared, avoiding the woman on her knees cleaning up bits of glass with her bare hands.
“You’ve been home from college a month.” August’s sharp eyes locked on mine. They were the same shade of blue as mine, so pale they were almost white in the light. I knew what that stare felt like. What it could do to a person. That was why I was careful to never look at anyone the way he did.
“Do you think you can sit on your ass and wait for me to die? You need a job. A profession. You need to get your hands dirty.”
“I’m preparing for the Rite, Father.”
“Don’t give me that shit. You think a man can’t choose a wife and have a job at the same time? What do you even have to do for it?” His lip curled. “Read a few files, go on a few dates and smile for the camera.”
I opened my mouth, but he barreled on.
“Go make some arrests. Protect our great nation. I want you in the field first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Field agent?” I asked incredulously. "That's a woman’s—"
“That’s your job this week. Prove you have balls and I’ll give you something better to do next week.”
“Fath—”
“Get out of my office.”
I swallowed, but August’s gaze had dipped to the woman cradling broken glass between red-slicked fingers.
“Yes sir.”
His sharp eyes narrowed on me once more. “The people are getting antsy. You think perfect hair and a pretty smile are enough to convince them you can take my place one day?”
“And putting me in a woman’s position is going to make me look strong?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“We aren’t going to frame it that way. Gideon Charles is coming in personally to film your Rite.
He’s going to blow this whole thing up. By the time we’re finished, the nation will be cheering your name.
But right now, you need to show them you’re tough.
That you enforce the laws.” He leaned across his desk. “Make some arrests. Understand?”
Another performance. Another role August had written for me. My jaw tightened, but this wasn’t a battle worth fighting. I dipped my chin.
“Good. Go see your mother. She’s all worked up about your last match.”
I turned.
“Elias.”
I glanced back.
“Make the arrests.”
***
The next morning, I arrived at the Bureau of Religious Affairs expecting something that matched its importance. The office relied on citizen reports to log complaints against the general population—our best defense against illegal activity when the drones couldn't be everywhere at once.
I'd anticipated surveillance cameras on every wall and armed guards at the door.
Instead I stepped into the massive structure and stared around the open, mostly empty space.
Rows of desks, stacked in orderly lines, sat at the center of the room.
Large glass windows let in natural light, making it feel far less cramped and stuffy than any other government building I'd ever been in.
“Mr. Hale?”
I turned, pasting a smile on my face.
“Corrine.”
What were the odds? Maybe my original plan was the right one.
“What are you doing here?” She stepped closer, her faded white dress pressing against my leg. “Are you here for… me?”
I leaned back, a knot forming in my stomach. She was months away from aging out. What if I was taking her last chance from her by asking her to join my Rite?
I cleared my throat. “I…” I glanced around the space. Dozens of eyes were on us. My gaze halted on a pair of gray eyes and stayed there. “Maryn?”
Corrine spun to face her. “Maryn? You’re here for Maryn?”
She held up a hand, and the room burst into chatter.
“Maryn, come.”
She stood, pushing her chair back from her desk. It scraped loudly against the concrete floor, and I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning.
Her march across the vast space was agonizingly slow, drawing my gaze to the sway of her hips.
She didn't hurry. Didn't smooth her hair or straighten her dress the way every other woman in the room had the moment I walked in. She hadn’t even spoken, and already I found myself needing to rehearse.
I wasn’t sure what to do with that.
She stopped more than a foot away. “Yes, Corrine?”
Her eyes never left Corrine, even though I knew she could feel my gaze burning the side of her face. Had I imagined it entirely? Was she already matched? I searched her bare wrist for any sign that I'd missed it. It was slender, delicate. Of course not. She wouldn't be here if she were in a Rite.
Why was my mind so frazzled? I'd had her file in my hands last night and hadn't read past her name.
“Mr. Hale is here for you.”
Her gaze swung to me. “You are?”
“I am?” I ran a hand through my hair. “That is… yes. I am.”
Every eye in the room watched me expectantly. “I’m here about a case.”
“My case?”
Of course. She had cases. She worked here. “Yes.”
“Yes,” I said again, more confidently.
“That’s actually my case,” Corrine said.
Maryn’s gaze shot to Corrine’s, and they stared at one another. “I made the request for a field agent.”
“You were told to file it.”
“There’s a problem with the paperwork,” I cut in.
Corrine’s mouth snapped shut.
Maryn turned to me. “I understand. If there is a problem, it’s my fault. How can I rectify it?”
My pulse pounded in my ears. Had she just accepted fault? Was she willing to accept punishment?
“Please, get the file and meet me in an office.” I looked around. “Is there an office in this building?”
“Mr. Hale, as her supervisor, I must be present for any disciplinary meetings.”
I searched Corrine’s face. I’d initially chosen her both to give her a chance and because she’d shown great promise in her career.
How had I not remembered she worked at this building?
Her sharp, business-minded nature had been what first attracted me to her, and what likely chased away so many other men.
“That won’t be necessary. I require Miss Veil’s presence at the site. She will walk me through the information, and I will determine whether she is at fault.”
Corrine opened her mouth, but I spoke first.
“I’m not asking for permission.”
Her lips pressed together, and she nodded.
“Miss Veil, please get the file and meet me at my car.”
Outside, I leaned against the car and scrambled to put a plan together. I had no idea what sort of report she’d filed. I only knew that my father wanted a public spectacle. Whoever had violated one of our religious laws, it was up to me to make an example of them.
A tightness under my ribs threatened to squeeze the air from my lungs. Most who broke our laws were good people who didn’t have a choice given their circumstances. I could only hope this time the offender was a true criminal.
The door to the building flew open, and Maryn strode out. The afternoon sun caught hints of blue in her dark hair. I’d never seen hair so black or so straight.
I met her eyes, and they narrowed slightly.
She halted several feet from the car, glancing around. “I… can’t.”
A smile tugged at my mouth. “Did you think I’d come to a woman’s place of business without a chaperone?”
I opened the car door, the woman in gray clearly visible, and ushered her inside.
She glanced between me and the chaperone before stepping through, and sitting beside the silent woman.
I stepped in after and sat across from her.
She eyed me, saying nothing. For a moment, we stared at one another, our mute companion looking straight ahead.
Then Maryn thrust the file into my lap.
I opened the folder, flipping the pages. A shop owner. Open on a Monday. No one was exempt from the holy day—the law was the law. Deportation to the Lower at best. The wall at worst. But how had he disabled his door alarm and gotten out of his house?
Without looking up, I said, "Micah, take us to five-thirteen Forrest Drive.”
The car rolled forward, and Maryn pressed her hand into the armrest.
My gaze shot up and I smiled. “First time in a car?”
She searched my face, and I swallowed. Hers was a mask I couldn’t read, but her eyes were sharp and searching, missing nothing.
“What will you do to him if he’s guilty?”
The rapid shift in topic had me rushing to catch up, and I leaned back in my seat even as I had to work to keep my face neutral. “If he’s guilty, he’ll be sent outside the wall.”
“For being outside his home on a Monday?”
I looked down again, scanning the file. “If this last report is true, he’s attempting to make a profit on the holy day.”
“That’s not what it says.”
My head snapped up. Where was the girl I danced with? The one who seemed genuinely charmed by me? This girl seemed almost angry.
“Are you upset with me, Maryn?”
Something about my bluntness made her still. I had the sense that this was her true face. The moment between performances. It seemed that to get to know her, I would have to find ways to catch her off guard.
The car rolled to a stop, and I slid out, holding the door wide as Maryn followed. I held out my hand, and she took it. Something sharp stabbed my palm, and I glanced down as she tore her hand from mine, tucking her fingers under her arms.
Joe's was a small sandwich shop wedged between rows of houses, the kind that had likely started as a home business before the Covenant made that illegal.
My stomach grumbled, and I considered ordering from him before I thought better of it.
Maryn pushed the door to his shop open and I stepped in after her. “Joe Green?”
A man looked up from behind the counter, the color draining from his face. He nodded.
“You’re under arrest for collecting a profit on the holy day. You’ll need to come with me.”
Before he could speak, his wife stepped between us. “Please. He was feeding Lowers. He made no money.”
"That's not better," I said it quietly, moving around her. Behind him, a girl of no more than ten dropped a loaf of bread, a second girl grabbing her roughly and dragging her out of sight.
My heart sank into my stomach.
“Oh, Joe.”
Chaos erupted as the girls bolted under my arm and through the door.
“Run!” Joe screamed.
I glanced at their retreating forms then back to Joe.
“They were just… They were playing behind the counter.” His gaze swung wildly around the room, and I understood what he was looking for. The cameras. The damning evidence that would eviscerate him in the court of public opinion.
“Why did they run, Joe?”
I hated how much I sounded like my father when he was using his calm voice. But it was too late to pretend and he knew it. I couldn’t overlook a crime like this.
Maryn spun around, eyes wide. “No one saw but us.”
Her words shocked me more than the two girls working in their father’s shop had.
She realized her mistake, but it was too late to take it back. Too late to cover her truth. “Maryn,” I breathed. “Are you a sympathizer?”
I needed her to refute it more than I wanted to admit.
She stilled, her face going blank.
“No.” The word held enough venom that I knew it was true. “But they’re children.”
I exhaled.
The relief that washed through me left me almost dizzy. I stepped forward, holding up a hand. “They won’t be punished. Only Joe.”
She took a step back, swallowing. Joe and his wife held each other, sobbing quietly.
Could I… pretend? My gaze swept over the small shop.
The old pots and rusted tables. It was obvious Joe wasn’t wealthy.
The truth was, he probably needed his wife’s help, not exactly a crime, and she couldn’t leave two small girls home alone.
They were playing. I could almost believe it. If I hadn’t seen the knife in the older girl’s hand.
“I—” I searched Maryn’s face.
My father’s cold voice sliced through my thoughts. Make some arrests.
I cursed my earlier wish. Finding someone guilty didn’t make what came next any easier. If not this guilty father, another. Someone would be cast out today. “I can’t.”
Something in Maryn's gaze dimmed as she watched me.
I held my breath.
Then, she nodded and moved to step out of my way.
I fumbled with the handcuffs at my side.
“Joe Green, for the crime of child labor.” I stepped forward. “I place you under arrest.”
He nodded, holding up his hands.
His wife began to wail, her cries so loud my ears rang.
I swallowed, sliding the handcuffs apart.
Maryn moved to the woman’s side, wrapping her arms around her and whispering quietly in her ear. I couldn’t hear what she said, but even as I placed the cuffs around Joe’s wrists, my heart sank.
She had agreed with me, but I would be a monster to her now.
I turned him around, and together, we marched out of the store and into the bright shining lights of the cameras.