25. Chapter 25
Maryn
Istepped out of the shower, inhaling the scent of my oat and honey soap. It was quickly becoming my favorite little luxury in the Center. I dressed quickly, stretching out my sore muscles after my Tuesday morning workout.
Opening my door, I padded down the long hall, past several closed doors.
When I reached the bottom step, Lydia’s voice rang out. “Our next date will be even more special, I’m sure of it.”
I stopped in the doorframe of the kitchen, and her gaze shot to me. “What about you, Middle girl? I bet you’re looking forward to another chance to eat like us.”
My lips pressed firmly together as I pushed off the frame, never breaking eye contact. I didn’t trust either of the Cannons, but especially Lydia. The way she watched the other matches was calculating, but underneath it was desperation. And there was nothing more dangerous than a desperate woman.
As I approached, her eyes darted away. I smirked, marching past her to open the cabinet, reaching for a bowl.
A spoon appeared beside me.
“She’s a bitch.”
“Nami.” I couldn’t hold back my grin as I accepted the spoon.
She shrugged. “I’ve had to deal with plenty of women like her since we arrived in the Center, but she might be the worst.”
The reminder that Nami had come from the Middle, like me, even if it had been a few years now, settled over me like a warm blanket.
“You feeling okay? I thought you’d been at morning workout.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I got a pass. Perfect health.”
I smiled. “Have you had breakfast?”
“I was just coming down. Want to eat together in my room?” As she asked, she grabbed a bowl of her own.
I shot a glance at Lydia, who was staring at both of us, eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t brave enough to take on two at once.
“Yes.”
Nami’s room was identical to mine. The pristine white bed was centered on a white wall, and her vanity was set in the corner beside her bathroom. I looked up: no hand-drawn crack.
Nami patted her bed, and I sat beside her, resting my bowl in my lap.
“Did you see the Middle girl’s date with Elias yesterday?”
I shook my head, blowing on my spoon.
“I couldn’t watch Elias on a date with another girl either,” Nami confided.
Something cold slithered down my spine. I swallowed my oats.
“How long have you been in the Center?”
“My brothers are five.” Nami stirred her oats in a circle, looking down. “Sounds like long enough to be considered one of them, but even the miracle of twin boys wasn’t enough to erase the stench of Middle on my name.”
My mouth fell open.
She looked up and laughed. “Come on. You can’t really be as proper as you act, Maryn.”
She sobered, eyeing me. “If you were really from the Middle, I might believe it. We were brainwashed there, but Elite fathers all have skeletons. If they aren’t alcoholics, they beat their wives.”
My grip tightened on my spoon.
Nami’s eyes widened, and she set her bowl beside her on the bed. “Shit. I’m sorry, Maryn.” She held out a hand, but I was frozen. “It’s just the way women talk to each other here. It’s cruel, and I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”
Slowly, my fingers relaxed, and I exhaled. “No. You’re right.” I shook my head. “Dad’s not perfect.”
Nami dropped her hand. “We don’t have to talk about it. I forget how rigid it is in the Middle, even at home.”
Heat crept up my cheeks, and I looked down. “It’s nice to know things are different in the Center. More open.”
Nami snorted.
I looked up as she shook her head. “Men don’t admit to beating their wives here either, but daughters aren’t as afraid to gossip about it.”
I nodded, pretending to understand.
A knock sounded at the door, and we both looked up.
“Yes?” Nami asked.
“Maryn Veil. Is she in there?”
I stood, rushing to the door and threw it open. “Paul?”
He looked me over, clearly disapproving of my house attire. “Come on, Twelve. I need you.”
Nami shooed me out, closing the door behind us. Paul followed me down the hall, but stopped outside my door.
“What is it?”
He glanced past me, int my room, eyes landing on my tablet. “Never leave that behind.”
I picked it up, touching the screen.
Welcome to Trial Seven.
I ran the pad of my thumb along the edge of the tablet, swiping to the next screen. Ice chilled my veins as I looked up. “But why are you here?”
“I have your first pill.”
I raised a hand and watched as he dropped a large white oval onto my palm.
“What does it do?”
Paul raised an eyebrow. “Did you read the instructions?”
“So that’s it? It just keeps me awake?”
He shrugged. “I guess you’ll find out.”
I swallowed the dryness in my throat.
“Calm down, Twelve, no one’s ever died from lack of sleep.”
“Why did you come? Instead of Vera? Or a nurse?”
“For the next forty-eight hours, you won’t be filmed, not even by surveillance footage. That means you don’t leave your room for any reason. No meals. Don’t answer the door. If the house is on fire, you burn with it.” His gaze met mine. “This is non-negotiable. Got it?”
I dipped my chin.
“Twelve.”
I looked up.
“It’s just forty-eight hours.” His face softened. “After this, the private trials are over.” He searched my face. “Got it?”
I inhaled and nodded.
When Paul had left, I tested the door, checking to ensure it wasn’t locked. Was it better that I could leave? Or worse?
I went to the bathroom, staring at the pill. Finally, I opened my mouth, popped it inside and held my head under the faucet, letting cold water fill my mouth, splash over my chin and cheeks, and slide down my throat.
I stood, staring in the mirror. My pupils seemed to dilate, but otherwise nothing happened.
In my room, I sat on my bed, lifting my bowl and spooning oats into my mouth. They were cold. I stood, moving to place the bowl on the bedside table.
A sound behind me had me spinning toward the window. Nothing.
I paced the room, counting my heartbeats. My pulse had sped up, but I couldn’t tell if it was the pill or nerves. When I’d followed a U shape from one far corner of my room to the other, more than a dozen times, I flung myself onto the bed.
My skin itched. My feet shook. My fingers found each other, lacing and unlacing on my stomach. I stared down my nose at them, letting my vision become unfocused to see what strange creatures I could picture.
Sitting up, I stared around the room, suddenly wishing for color. A splash of anything to give the space life. If I had paint, I could add a forest of green leaves like those I’d been swallowed in at The Eden. I missed that restaurant, its smells, the food.
Elias’s company.
I slid off the bed, touching my tablet screen. It had been less than an hour. I hadn’t felt trapped in my room before, but now, knowing I couldn’t leave, it was all I could think of.
Crossing the room, I leaned against the door, pressing my ear against the surface as I listened.
Tinny voices carried through doors and walls, laughter.
If this trial were completed individually, some of the women may not have their pills yet.
Or some may have already taken them. Were they breaking the rules?
Could I go to Nami’s room? Resume our conversation?
I shook my head. The trial instructions had been clear: forty-eight hours of isolation. No sleep, no food, no interactions. Then the test. If I broke any of those rules, I failed.
I sat on the bed, touching my tablet, scrolling through old rite instructions.
An eternity later, I checked the time on my tablet. It had been three hours.
***
Sometime after ten p.m., I’d given up my game of shadow puppets on the wall and stared up at nothing.
My thumb ran over the uneven edges of my fingernails. I glanced down, hissing. Dark red dotted my dress. I stood, rushing to the restroom and unrolling enough toilet paper to cover the three offending fingers.
Calden would have noticed. He would have commented.
I shook my head. Stop it, Maryn.
I tugged the dress over my head, stuffing it into the sink and let cold water run over the stains. The sink filled, water swirling in pink circles. Soon, the color had spread, staining the middle of the dress pale pink.
“Barren mother,” I swore, yanking the dress out of the sink and wringing it over the toilet.
I looked at my tablet. Midnight.
I’d survived fifteen hours. Thirty-three to go.
***
My tablet buzzed, and I stared up at it blurrily.
Your chaperone is arriving.
“Finally,” I groaned aloud. At some point, I’d begun talking to myself out loud.
I glanced down. Should I change? Did it matter? Paul had said they couldn’t film me until after. I stood, stumbling toward the door. Stopped. I checked the time. Eight-o-seven.
Not time yet.
I stared at the screen on my tablet, touching it every time it went dark until eight-nineteen appeared in small white letters.
Reaching for the handle, I ripped the door open, bursting into the hall. I had never been so glad to see a hall filled with doors.
At the bottom, a chaperone, all in gray, stepped forward, holding up her palm. A small black pill, opposite to the one I’d taken forty-eight hours ago, glared up at me.
I reached for it, stuffing it in my cotton mouth and pushing past her into the kitchen. I tipped my head under the faucet, twisting until cool water filled my mouth. I let it run over my face, shocking sense into me.
I straightened. “Ready.”
She couldn’t hear me, but she read my lips and stepped back, giving me space.
In the driverless car, she stared straight ahead.
“I had a friend in school who became a chaperone after she failed her third Rite,” I told her.
I bit down on my tongue to stop any more of my thoughts from spilling out.
She said nothing.
We reached the building I’d been to twice before and stepped out.
A dull place in the back of my mind screamed at me to be careful, to stop talking, but words continued to pour out of me. I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d said or if the words had been said to anyone in particular.
In moments, I was sinking onto a table, exhaling a relaxing breath. Soon. Soon I could sleep.
“Maryn Veil, daughter of Joel Veil?”
“That’s me!”
“Recite your data.”
I rattled off my family history, remembering to include the two additional family members Joel had never told me about. Strange that he hadn’t told me about them. Why hadn’t he told me?
“That is a question for your father, girl.”
Had I said that aloud? Why couldn’t I stop talking?
When the nurse said nothing else, I sighed again. I was getting better at keeping my thoughts inside.
A man blocked my view, shining a bright white light in my eyes. “Ow.”
He smiled. “Good morning, Miss Veil. I’m Doctor Millin. I’ll be conducting your trial. Would that be alright with you?”
I grinned back at him. “You’re nicer than the other doctors.”
He chuckled. “Well, thank you.”
“Are you going to put another leech up my nose? I don’t like that.”
He leaned closer, and the green flecks in his eyes seemed to swim in and out of focus. “I’ll tell you what. You answer all my questions, and we won’t put anything up your nose. How does that sound?”
“Great.”
He straightened, gaze moving to somewhere behind me. “We’re ready here.”
Something cold clamped around my finger, and I tried to sit up, but my arms wouldn’t budge. I wriggled a little. Behind me, the nurse began to hum as she moved around the table.
“Maryn, don’t worry. We’re almost finished.”
The doctor’s voice was light, reassuring; my head fell back. I stared up, gaze tracing over the blank palette overhead.
“Maryn.”
“Yes?”
“What is your dad’s name?”
“Joel Veil.”
“Good.”
I smiled.
“Have you ever been alone with a man who was not your father?”
“Of course not.” The effort of those words pressed heavily on my chest.
Doctor Brown Eyes smiled. “You’re doing great.” He scribbled something on a pad of paper. “Have you ever wanted something you knew you weren’t allowed to have?”
I thought about it.
“I wanted to be Elite.”
He nodded, continuing to write.
“Have you ever touched a man without permission?”
“Never.” The weight was back, making it hard to breathe.
“Describe the last time your body responded to someone against your will.”
“I…”
The doctor glanced up sharply, and I gasped for air.
“Do we need to get a leech, Maryn?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” A tremor rolled through me.
“It’s okay. Nothing you say here leaves this room.”
I nodded, my vision swimming out of focus. “I was on the roof. With Elias.” My throat was sticky. “I was afraid.” The trembling increased. “Then Elias wrapped his arms around me, and I felt safe.”
The doctor’s pen scratched on his pad again. “And did you feel anything else?”
I nodded, heat creeping up my neck. “Aroused.”
I tried to lift my hands, to bury my face, but they were restrained, so I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at the man asking questions.
“Almost finished,” he said gently.
I pushed air through my nose, trying to still the shakes racking my body.
“Who do you think of when you’re alone?”
I opened my mouth to say Mother. Or Father.
“Calden Charles.”