46
I waste no time heading to Fiama Society Tower A. Rook wanted to come upstairs with me, but I insisted that he stay behind. It’s not that I don’t want him along, but to everyone else, he’s still an outsider, and he only attracts attention.
I hate it. I hate that we can’t just be together without everyone’s judgment.
But we both understand that’s not the world we live in right now.
“I’ll wait for you nearby,” he says. “Just around the corner. If you need me, message me, and I’ll come immediately.”
“Okay,” I concede after we argue about it for several minutes. He’s worried about my safety. “I can live with that.”
He offers me a smile and lifts his hand to my face, brushing my cheek with his thumb. “How are you feeling?”
“Lost. Scared. Confused. Maybe a little relieved that Sol was telling us the truth about a cure.”
He nods. “What do you think about Ada saying we shouldn’t completely trust her?”
“I think she’s probably right.”
He presses his mouth together, the corners tipping down. “I wonder if she plans to ever contact us again.”
“She said she needed us,” I insist. “That’s why we came back. I can’t be a Storm Guard anymore. The night on the Tower proved that.”
He offers me a sympathetic look. “And what does that mean to you? Knowing that’s no longer an option?”
I shrug. “Like I have no idea where I fit in.”
“And you thought General Sol was offering you somewhere to belong.”
I nod. “I guess I did.”
“She still needs someone to replace her.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Or maybe none of this is real.”
He leans in to kiss me, his mouth softly brushing mine as my breath turns short and my heart pounds against my ribs. I wonder if kissing him will ever feel casual, or if every look and touch will always feel like an awakening.
We pull apart and stare at each other. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how amazing you are, Poet Graves,” he says. “How deeply I’ve fallen in love with you, or how much you make me wish it could just be the two of us without all of these things pulling us apart.”
“I love you,” I whisper. “I know you came here to find answers, and I’m grateful every day that you needed to, or we never would have met.”
“The people of the old world believed in destiny and fate,” he replies. “In some divine cosmic hand controlling our actions and the outcomes of our lives. Maybe there’s some truth to it. Maybe it was inevitable that we’d find one another.”
I inhale a deep breath, and we hold each other for a moment.
“You should get going,” he says into the top of my ponytail. “It’s getting late.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding.
“Good luck.”
My gaze lingers on him for another moment before I turn away and head to Fiama Society Tower A, where Mrs. Chu lives a few floors below my parents.
I still haven’t heard from either of them since that dinner in their apartment, despite my best efforts.
My father promised we’d talk, but he obviously didn’t mean that.
As for my mom’s silence, I suspect that he’s forbidden her from answering my messages.
While it hurts, I also try not to blame her for it.
It’s always been less painful to believe she has good reasons for choosing him over me.
I enter the lobby and wave to Cyril, who cheerfully waves back without hesitation. I was right to leave Rook behind, as much as it breaks my heart to do so.
I ride the elevator up and knock on the door. It pops open, revealing an elegant woman with shiny black hair falling around her shoulders, dark-amber eyes, and a smooth brown complexion dusted with pink along her sharp cheekbones.
“Yes?” she asks. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Mrs. Chu,” I say. “I’m a friend of Edward’s.”
The woman’s eyes widen, and then she gestures for me to come in. “It’s so nice of you to visit,” she says. “Elena loves it when his friends stop by.”
“Have many come?”
“A few,” she says. “People are worried. We all are.”
I nod, conflicted with emotions. While our world might be cutthroat, we try to care for one another when it counts. Edward said his mom wasn’t close with her sister, but it’s obvious they’re rallying around her during this tragedy. There is some good left here, and that’s worth protecting.
“Call me Annie,” she says. “I’m Elena’s sister.
With Edward gone, we’ve been taking turns checking on her.
I’ve been trying to convince her to move into our apartment in Tower B, but she doesn’t want to leave.
” She pauses and swallows, her eyes shining.
“I think she’s afraid he’ll return and she won’t be here. ”
I huff out a breath. “I can understand that.”
We enter an ornately furnished living room covered in thick embroidered rugs with elaborate velvet curtains draped over floor-to-ceiling windows. Mrs. Chu sits on one of the sofas, her feet tucked up under an embroidered silk robe as she gazes out at the skyline and into the distance.
“Ellie,” Annie says. “One of Edward’s friends is here to see you.”
Mrs. Chu turns to look at me, blinking slowly. Her black hair is pulled back into a knot at her nape, and her flawless complexion is free of makeup.
“Poet,” she says softly, reaching for me. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”
Suddenly, I feel terrible about how long it took me to visit. I cross the room and clasp her hands in mine. Her fingers are fragile and cold, like she might snap in two with the barest pressure.
“You’ve heard the rumors about Edward?” she asks, and I nod.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” I say, but she waves me off.
“You’re busy with school,” she says. “And you’ve plenty of your own troubles to deal with.”
I nod as I sink down on the coffee table in front of her. “You could say that.”
“I’m glad to see you’re well. And I’m sorry that Trinity treated you that way. It seems like that girl was intent on hurting everyone last year.”
“Has she been by?” I ask, and Mrs. Chu scoffs.
“Please. And have to face the consequences of her actions? She broke Edward’s heart. Did you know he stopped going to classes because of her?”
I nod. “He mentioned it to me. Said you yelled at him.”
“I absolutely did!” she says, slapping her thigh. “He deserved it. Imagine throwing away your future for that trashy girl.”
She shakes her head, and a strange, deep-seated instinct inside me still wants to defend Trinity. I remind myself she doesn’t deserve it. Maybe she never did.
“Imagine accusing an innocent person of such a thing,” she says to me. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “That means a lot.”
She nods and then glances behind me.
“Tea?” Annie asks, holding up a tray. I slide off the table and into an armchair while she pours each of us a cup.
“Mrs. Chu,” I say, cradling the mug in my hands, trying to warm my suddenly ice-cold fingers. “Did you have any idea where Edward was before now?”
Tears fill her eyes. “They told me he was caught in the Blood Storm,” she says. “That he was crushed by falling debris, his body mangled beyond recognition. I believed them.”
She takes a shaky sip from her cup and exhales a heavy sigh.
“I don’t know how I could have missed that he was keeping such a secret.”
Acid burns in my gut at the sadness on her face. Everything in me desperately wants to scream that it’s all a lie and Edward is alive. That he was unjustly imprisoned. That he’s okay, but that he’ll have to leave New Manhattan soon, and she’ll probably never see him again.
But instead I bite my tongue so hard I nearly taste blood.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I’m sure if he were here, he would tell you how much he loves you and that he never meant for any of this to happen.”
Mrs. Chu’s eyes drop. “I would tell him that I love him, too.”
She takes another sip of her tea, slow and deliberate.
“But it’s strange,” she muses. “A mother always knows. Even when children think they’re being clever with their secrets, a mother knows.”
She leaves the thought hanging. She suspects their lie, but she’s also helpless to do anything about it. Who could she accuse? Pushing back would only lead to more problems and no answers.
She tips her head and scans me up and down, something penetrating in her expression.
“What else would you tell him?” I whisper, hoping she understands what I can’t say.
“That I forgive him. That I’m sorry I failed him and I’m sorry he couldn’t pursue the future he wanted because of me.
He didn’t need to stay and take care of me, but after his father died, he made me his responsibility.
” She sighs heavily. “I’d tell him that I hope with everything in my heart he finds what he wants, and that even though I will miss him every day of my life, I will be fine.
I have my sister to care for me, and I will manage. ”
She says it steadily, but with every word out of her mouth, I sense her flaking apart, bit by bit, the pieces of her spirit lost to the wind forever.
“I’m sure he’d be grateful to know that.”
She stretches out a hand toward me. I reach for it, and she squeezes my fingers.
“You take care of yourself, Poet,” she says. “And please come and see me sometimes.”
My throat tightens. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here, either, but if I stay in New Manhattan, I vow to keep this promise to her.
“Thank you for your time,” I say. “I should go.”
She releases me, and I exit the apartment, feeling both lighter and heavier than I did when I arrived. It’s probably not the closure Edward or his mom wanted, but maybe I can offer them a small measure of peace.
I ride the elevator down and exit into the lobby.
That’s where I come face-to-face with my father.