Chapter 15
TWO WEEKS LATER
Father is furious.
I stand with my hands cupped in front of me while he rages at one of many bookcases in the library, shucking copies of “useless garbage” at the ground, crash. At my desk, thunk. Three inches from my sister’s head, gasp. She flinches—weak—but is lucky enough not to draw Father’s gaze.
When he smashes his fist into the wall, it leaves no dent. Not a single crack in the sheetrock. If it were Thorne, he would only need tap it, yet it’s our Chief Elder’s anger which is most destructive, as evidenced by the seraph lying at my feet.
I toe her shoulder, shifting her body as if there’s a chance she’s still alive.
She’s already stiffening, her face once a pleasant cream color paling into a sickly gray.
Her eyes have been removed, her mouth sewn shut.
All for the sin of being seen late last night with Sawyer Hansley, only an hour before another baby miraculously disappeared from the forest.
Someone is helping him escape, and for the sake of my sanity as well as my conscience—however small it may be—I hope it was the corpse.
Doubtful.
“Maybe it’s a mistake with the cameras,” my sister suggests.
Stupid girl.
“A mistake,” Father whispers, his voice thick with contempt. He gives my sister a look so cruel, she cowers. Her third mistake in under two minutes.
“You’re right, my sweet. A mistake was made. Yours. You were on security detail last night.”
“If anyone is responsible, it’s me,” I counter, whipping Father’s gaze to me. I lift my chin and match his challenging stare, grateful Thorne isn’t here to see this. This room can’t take another emotionally volatile person.
“I brought Sawyer Hansley into our home. His actions are mine.”
“Yours.” Father laughs bitterly as he comes toward me, using his height as intimidation. It hasn’t worked since I was a girl.
I nod. “I take full responsibility for the infants.”
“Then you can die with your failed project.”
“Father!” Sister squeaks.
I turn my hardened eyes on her and point toward the door. “Leave. Now.”
She shakes her head, her brow scrunched with concern. Pointless concern, as if we’re here for anything more than an old man’s tantrum.
“I will die if that’s what you choose,” I say to Father, my tone controlled.
“But it would be a decision made out of reckless anger and one that would cost us future generations… Sawyer Hansley is a pest, yes; I will never argue against that. But if you let your prideful temper get in the way of our mission, I wouldn’t want to live to watch my people suffer anyway.
My purpose is to serve them. What is yours, Father? ”
He rears his hand back while I stand perfectly still, waiting on the blow. It would only prove my point. Prove how weak he is to his emotions. A male issue.
The hit doesn’t come. His eyes soften when he realizes the mistake he was about to make. He lowers his hand while I turn to my sister to address her instead.
“This is the second baby in two weeks that has mysteriously disappeared, and neither time was Sawyer Hansley tracked by our surveillance. Your top priority is to find who’s helping him evade the drones. Everyone with access to the control panel gets monitored. Understood?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she says without hesitation.
“We already found the traitor,” Father spits, nudging his shoe against the dead woman. The dead seraph…
Ha.
It is not unheard of for a seraph to receive special attention from the Keepers on duty, so it is possible Father is correct… But my god, what an inefficient way to go about things. And Hansley has proven to be nothing if not efficient.
He isn’t fucking a seraph.
He’s fucking a keeper.
I don’t bother arguing with Father about this.
“As for Mr. Hansley,” I continue, my eyes pinned on Father. “He will pay for his mistakes when the time is right. In the meantime, he’s too important to kill for a crime as meaningless as rescuing a couple of unfit infants.”
“The police could connect us to the things,” Father says through gritted teeth. “How will you protect our people then?”
“What exactly are the authorities going to say?” I tilt my head.
“If it’s a crime to reject an infant, it isn’t in these books you so easily disregard.
” I gesture to the pile of tattered literature it’s taken decades to collect.
I wonder if Father would have been so destructive had we met in his quarters.
“As far as I’m aware, this is a common practice for the outside world.
The children were left at a hospital. They couldn’t even charge us with carelessness. ”
“Are you sure?” My sister asks.
Am I sure?
I am sure of nothing. Ever.
Certainty is the destruction of the wise.
I nod anyway.
“This needs to end,” Father murmurs, though his temper is settling.
“I agree.” I nod. “And it will. Soon. We must be patient. We aren’t finished with data collection, and if we skip over this period, we’ll never—”
A knock sounds on the door, turning all of our heads. The Keepers know better than to interrupt us.
“Who is it?” Father asks.
“Sawyer,” the increasingly familiar voice calls, trapping air inside my lungs. “I have an update I think you might want.”
I turn to my sister as her eyes widen and her jaw drops. I can read her mind without her saying a word.
Did he hear us?
Even if he didn’t, she’s going to wind up giving us away. With a snap of my fingers, I point to the corpse. I mouth three words that she hurries to obey.
Hide her. Now.