3 #2
“He’s my brother. Well, my half brother.” He snort-laughs before adding, “Same mom. Vastly different moods.”
Oh. That explains a few things. I think.
“And is that a secret?” I whisper, also looking at the door and back at Rook.
“No, it’s not.”
“Then why are we whispering?”
Rook grunts, nearly laughing again, but quickly tamps it down.
“I can’t say anything else here,” he says. “About why I was inside New Manhattan. There are too many ears, and I know it’s asking a lot, but I need you to keep quiet about everything you know.”
“But I don’t know what you were doing there, either. Not really.”
“I know, I just—” He exhales a sound of frustration. “I promise that once we get out of here, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Knock, knock,” comes Cole’s cheerful voice a moment later. “Got your bags.” He dumps the packs hanging from each shoulder onto the end of my bed. “You can also grab showers in the bathhouse. I’ve had it cleared out for you for the next twenty minutes or so. Safira will escort you.”
“Sounds good,” Rook says. “Thank you again.”
I figure out which backpack is mine and pull out the contents.
I find a pair of my school uniform pants, a casual tunic, and some clean underwear and socks.
At the bottom, I see Teddy crumpled among my things, a little flattened but reminding me of home with such clarity—both the good and the bad—that I suddenly can’t breathe.
“Poet?” Rook asks, pulling me out of a spiral. “You all right?”
I stare at him. He packed Teddy for me. I was paralyzed. They were chasing us. We were about to die, but . . . he remembered.
I’m not sure why that hurts so much.
“Poe?”
There’s such tender concern in his face that I feel something crack, tiny striations forming across my skin. What if I simply turned to dust?
“I’m fine,” I say, shaking my head and scooping up some clean clothing.
Balling everything together, I hold the bundle to my chest and kick my boots into a standing position. Rook retrieves his own set of clean clothing before we follow Safira across the small clearing to a white rectangular building.
Inside is a row of stalls, divided by partial wooden-and-metal walls. A stack of towels sits on a bench, and I grab one before making my way to the farthest stall.
Rook takes the stall at the opposite end, giving me space.
Quickly, I strip out of my dress, watching it fall to my feet in an airy cloud, crusted with blood and dirt.
It’s completely ruined. I kick it aside and turn on the water, groaning when a firm blast of heat meets my skin.
Industrial-size containers of soap and shampoo sit on a ledge, and I squeeze out generous portions of each before cleaning myself off.
Everything smells fresh and light, without extra perfumes or scents.
I’m still wearing my necklace, and I clutch it in my hand, grateful I didn’t lose it during our escape. I might never see my mom again, but I’ll always have this piece of her with me.
Once I’m finished, I towel myself off, wrap my hair in a knot, and dress. When I exit the stall, Rook is waiting in a fresh shirt and pants, leaning with one foot planted against the wall and his arms folded over his chest.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much,” I answer. “I feel almost human again. Why are they doing all this for us?”
“It’s our way,” he says. “Despite any personal feelings, we take care of our own. Out here, it’s us and the elements, and the only ones we can truly rely on are each other.”
“That’s . . . commendable.”
I chew my lip as I think about the city and how much disparity exists between the Societies and everyone else. How we don’t take care of anyone but ourselves.
Rook’s eyes shift, almost as if he can tell what I’m thinking.
“C’mon,” he says, pushing off the wall. “You must be starving.”
He reaches for me, like he wants to take my hand. I nearly grab it and then pull back, leaving him hanging for an awkward second before he does the same.
I hate this.
Quickly, he turns away and opens the door. We step out into the cool evening, where Safira waits for us.
“Where can I toss this?” I ask, holding up my ruined dress.
“Toss it?” she asks, her brows climbing.
“Yes?” I confirm.
Rook takes the dress from me. “We never throw anything away here. Everything can be repurposed into something else.” He drapes it over the doorway. “We’ll ask around to see if someone can make use of the material, at least.”
My cheeks warm. “Right. I’m sorry. Of course.”
“It’s fine,” he says before gesturing to Safira. “We’re ready.”
After offering me a pitying look, she delivers us back to our tent, where a tray of food sits on a small table near the wall. Sandwiches, glass bottles of water, and cookies.
Rook hands me a plate, and we both settle onto our beds, eating in silence. The food is good and hearty, and I concentrate on chewing and swallowing, attempting to keep thoughts of home and everything we left behind at bay.
When I’ve eaten every last bite, I return the tray to the table, kick off my boots, and then, without another word, crawl into bed fully clothed and pull up the blanket. I tuck Teddy to my chest and close my eyes.
But as the camp settles into quiet, my thoughts grow impossibly loud.
I hope the people I left behind are okay. Domino and Journey. My parents. I can’t stop thinking about Edward’s lifeless, stunned body lying on the carpet in Mr. Robins’s office. I don’t think they killed him, but I can’t be sure. I’ll never forgive myself if he’s dead.
And Trinity . . .
My chest squeezes tight as I recall the look on her face when Lieutenant Dire dragged her into the ball with his arm cinched around her neck. The wideness of her eyes. The paleness of her skin. Freckles as stark as blood dribbled over freshly fallen snow.
Her words.
Her accusation.
The moment she sealed my fate.
She gave me up to the Extinguishers.
I’ve imagined moments just like it a thousand times since the day I discovered what I am. I just never thought my best friend would be the one standing on the other side of that accusing finger.
She must have seen me in the Central Park Tree Farm during our cadet exam. I recall that flash of red hair I spotted through the bushes.
I wasn’t sure. I am now.
The way she hugged me at the end and then walked away.
I should have known.
It was her.
She saw me, waited a full week . . . and then betrayed me in front of everyone.
Maybe she had no choice. Maybe she grappled with her decision. Maybe she was crying because she was sorry.
Or maybe she was just afraid of me.
I don’t know which cuts worse.
My stomach pitches, rage and hurt curdling in my gut. Trinity isn’t perfect, but I never thought she would do something like this.
A tear slips down my cheek. I knew we were growing apart. I was losing her to the E-squad. Or maybe I’d lost her already. Still, she is my best friend. I would have done anything for her.
Was. Was my best friend.
I have to accept that. Even if I could return home, I could never forgive her.
I use Teddy’s arm to wipe the moisture from my face and try to empty my mind. I need to sleep if I’m going to have the strength to face whatever comes next.
For now, I think I’m safe. Relatively so, at least.
Rook is here, and he won’t let anything happen to me.
In spite of everything, I believe that.
Just as I’m drifting off, the wail of a siren pierces through the night.