24
I spend the night curled up on the small, hard bed with my knees tucked under my chin. I don’t cry. I don’t speak. I just hope. Did we fool anyone? Did we convince them? I say “we,” but I really mean “they,” because I wasn’t given the opportunity to defend myself.
Sleep never comes. My thoughts drift as I think about my fate, but also my parents and Rook, hoping he’s okay. I think about my friends—Journey and Domino. I’m still worried about what happened to Edward that night.
I’m staring up at the ceiling, imagining all the worst possible outcomes, when I hear sharp footsteps.
As they draw closer, I sit up. I’m stiff, and my body aches from clenching every muscle. This must be it. My judgment. My salvation. Or my execution?
With my hands fisted in the blankets, I wait perfectly still until three people stand before my cage.
General Sol with one of her Circle Guards and Major Birch.
My tongue has become too thick to move. I study the general’s face for some sign or clue, but she gives nothing away.
“The Shield has discussed your case,” she says, then pauses.
I clutch the edge of the bed, my entire body wound tight.
“And you have been cleared of all charges. You’re free to leave your cell and return to your studies at Amery.”
At first, I have trouble processing her words. Did I hear her right?
“I can go?” I whisper, and she nods.
“Thanks to the testimonies from Dr. Eze, Lieutenant Crawford, and Lieutenant Stephens, you have been cleared of the accusations leveled by Recruit Robins. She was mistaken in what she saw. Your blood tests have also cleared you, and there is no reason to keep you here any longer.”
It takes me another moment to fully absorb what she’s saying. We did it? They did it. When Trinity stood in that ballroom and accused me in front of everyone, I thought that was it. I was sure my life was over for good.
“Thank you,” I say, choking on a sob. “Thank you.”
I note the scowl on Major Birch’s face. He’s obviously furious that he isn’t getting his hands on me.
“Don’t thank me,” she says. “You were wrongly accused. The Shield apologizes for the mistake. We understand why you were frightened and why you had to flee the city.”
“Okay,” I say. I’m barely coherent, dizzy with relief. “I can go back to my dorm room?”
Sol steps aside, and the major punches in the code to my cell, his brow lowered. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he says to me. “So watch your back.”
“Major,” Sol says sharply. “That isn’t necessary. Nor is it protocol.”
Birch glances at his feet briefly before pinning me with a glare. “Yes, General.”
“Follow me,” Sol says. I wish I could talk to her. I wish I could ask what happens next.
Instead, I quickly exit my cell before we wind through the Tempestade and eventually arrive on the Citadel’s main floor.
I blink at the flood of light thanks to numerous windows lining the main lobby.
I think of the masquerade ball, my pretty dress, and the night we planned to break into the computers.
“What happened to Edward Chu?” I ask, desperate for information. “He was with me the night I . . . escaped.”
Sol peers over her shoulder at Major Birch.
“You may leave now,” she says.
The major opens his mouth, then closes it, his eyes narrowing.
“That’s an order,” the general tacks on, and he has no choice but to obey.
He grumbles, turns around, and walks off, his shoes squeaking against the smooth tiles. When he’s gone, General Sol turns to me.
“Edward Chu is currently in custody for attempting to break into The Shield’s computers. He has been given a light jail sentence.”
He’s alive. Thank Skies.
But what does she mean by “attempting”? He did break in.
Uncertainty passes behind Sol’s eyes. “However, his arrest and incarceration are both classified. You are to keep the details of your little adventure to The Shield’s office to yourself. It is tantamount to the city’s safety.”
Her expression is hard, her dark eyes like knifepoints. A shiver of apprehension rolls down my back.
“How long will he be in jail for?” I ask, my voice a whisper. Guilt twists in my gut. I might be free, but Edward agreed to help me that night, and now he’s paying the price.
“He’ll be released when the school semester starts. It was an act of impetuous youthfulness, and there is no reason to ruin his life over it.”
Those words seem to contradict the hardness of her tone, but at least he’ll be home soon. I’m just so relieved he isn’t dead. Maybe I’ll visit his mom and see how she’s doing. If she’ll even talk to me after everything I’ve done.
“Can I visit him?” I ask.
“No. You’ll see him soon enough.”
I accept that answer because, all things considered, it may be a generous outcome.
“What about me?” I ask. “I was also there for the . . . attempt.”
Her gaze falls to me, sharp and clear. “Given the amount of time you’ve already been locked up in the Tempestade, we’ve agreed that you’ve served the required time.”
“What about—”
“Poet,” General Sol says, cutting me off before I can ask about Rook. They must know he broke in that night, too. “I’m not sure I can make this clearer. The break-in never happened. You were accused of being a Keeper, and, fearing for your life, you ran. Are we understood?”
She fixes me with a penetrating look, and I swallow the knot in my throat.
“Understood.”
“Good.” Then she pauses and scans me from head to toe. “And while we’re at it, you will keep everything you witnessed in the Tiera Frais to yourself. You should never have seen any of that, and it’s for everyone’s protection that they continue to believe there is nothing to be found in the Wastes.”
I already anticipated this.
“Will I be arrested if I tell anyone?”
The general rolls her neck. “Scavengers who wander too far and return with ‘stories’ are dealt with, Poet. Don’t forget that. My protection only extends so far.”
We share a look. It feels like a standoff. The Shield is letting a whole list of things I shouldn’t be getting away with slide, all because the general claims that she needs me. That New Manhattan needs me. She must have convinced the chancellors of my innocence without revealing my secrets.
Still, it feels like there is so much more happening that I don’t understand.
Suddenly, the doors to the lobby slide open.
“Poet,” comes my mother’s voice, and before I know it, I’m enveloped in her comforting scent. She’s sobbing against me, crying so hard she’s shaking. We stand like that for a moment before she pulls away and cups my face in her hands. “Skies, we were so worried.”
“I’m okay, Mom,” I say. “I’m okay.”
My dad walks over, hands in his pockets. He tips his head at the general, who returns the greeting.
“Dad,” I say, wiping my eyes.
“Poet. I’m glad you’re free.”
“You’ll come home with us?” my mom asks. “You need to recover. You’re so pale and thin. What happened to you out there?”
She blinks her brown eyes as the word home knocks something out of me.
What is home?
She’s wondering what happened to me out there. But there, I was safe. Cared for.
I love my mom, but she isn’t home anymore.
“You . . . kicked me out of your lives. Dad said he no longer had a daughter.”
The words ring hollow in the empty lobby, and I can’t bring myself to look at him.
They came for my trial, but I haven’t forgotten how they disowned me when I chose House Aria over Fiama. How my dad refused to listen to what I wanted and tried to force me to marry a man like Knox.
My mother’s expression falls, and I hate hurting her, but I can’t pretend that none of it happened.
“Do you take back what you said? Will you accept me as I am?” I ask, directing the question to my father. “I’m House Aria. That hasn’t changed.”
He meets my eyes and says nothing before his gaze shifts away.
He isn’t over it.
“That’s what I thought,” I say.
“Poet,” my mother says, her gaze jumping between my father and me. “Let’s talk about this.”
“I think it’s better if I return to Amery,” I say. “School starts soon anyway.”
“I agree,” Sol says, appearing at my other side. “Cadets continue their training during the semester break, and she’s already missed some vital lessons. The first year was hard, but the second year will be grueling. She can’t afford any more time off.”
She gives me a pointed look. It’s a reminder. I am free, but I have work to do. People to save. A mission to accomplish.
“I want to see Rook and my friends. Are they okay?”
“I believe everyone is in a similar condition to when you last saw them,” Sol answers. “And I’m sure they’re eager to see you, too.”
“Will you come visit us, at least?” my mom asks. “For dinner? Please?”
She takes my hands in hers, squeezing them, her eyes pleading.
“How’s Knox?” I ask, curious about what happened to him.
An awkward pause as my parents share a look.
“Knox is engaged to the Jenkins girl,” my father says without emotion.
“Oh,” I say, not sure how to react.
This is what I wanted, and it’s hard not to feel a sort of conflicted relief.
“So he survived,” I say.
“He was injured in the tunnel collapse,” Sol says. “He’s still contending with some residual injuries, but he’s expected to make a full recovery. He’s being lauded as a hero for trying to stop you from leaving.”
I can’t tell from her tone what she thinks of that, but it definitely pisses me off.
A hero? Rook was right. He is a cockroach.
But at least he’s alive. Despite everything, I didn’t want him to die.
“So, we’ll see you soon?” my mom asks.
She’s so hopeful that I can’t bring myself to say no.
“Sure,” I say, not sure if I really mean it, but she beams, wrapping me in another hug.
My parents leave, and then I’m standing alone with General Sol.
I give her an expectant look, hoping for some guidance on where we go from here.
“You’re free to go. Return to your room and have a good year at school.”
Then she also walks away.
It feels like a rejection. It feels like I imagined the entire conversation we had in the Veil. I remind myself that she has no public reason to talk to me any further. I’m just a cadet, and she is The Shield. She was probably already too involved in all of this for it to appear normal.
I’m alone, and it finally hits me.
I survived.
Somehow, we convinced them I’m not a danger, and I’m still standing.
I have a lot of questions. I’m harboring more secrets than ever.
But I survived.
I break into a run, dashing across the plaza, surprised to see dozens of people milling around in circles, carrying large signs covered with black ink. More protestors petitioning on behalf of loved ones who’ve been taken by the Extinguishers.
I want to talk to them, but I’m also aware of the Patrol standing nearby, watching the protestors’ every move. I can’t draw any more attention to myself, at least for now.
So I keep running until I burst through Amery’s doors. The grand hall is empty, and I stare about the space, my knees weak. I was sure I’d never see these walls again.
I head for the stairwell that leads to the lower level. My heart races as I near my dorm room. My fingers are shaking as I punch in the code. The door opens to reveal Rook pacing back and forth.
He stops mid-step. He looks exhausted. Eyes bloodshot. Hair hanging limp.
“Poet,” he whispers. “I thought . . . I . . . They wouldn’t tell me anything . . .”
“Rook,” I gasp, tripping toward him. “I love you, too.”