Cage of Glass (Cage of Glass Trilogy Book 1)

by Genevieve Crownson

  I frowned in annoyance when I saw it was only the neighbor’s cat.

  Still cautious, I took another look around and then closed my eyes tightly, listening. The only sounds I heard were the wind rustling through the leaves of the trees, and somewhere in the distance, the hoot of an owl echoed on the night air. I breathed a sigh of relief. No one had seen me. Fortunately, Mom was in the kitchen making dinner, and Dad was probably in his office grading some papers. That meant I had about an hour or so before anyone discovered I was missing.

  My sneakers tread soundlessly as I took off down the street, speeding quickly toward the library before it closed. I didn’t prefer going behind my parents back, but it couldn’t be helped. Not only were the phones with their weird trackers an issue—but the absurd outer image of perfection in this town creeped me out. And what was with the underlying fear of all the adults? I tried to stay away from it all, but the more I tried, the further I was drawn into the madness—as if somehow, I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  It only took me about five minutes to reach the library. Winded from running, I waited until my breath returned to normal. When I felt under control, I grabbed the heavy brass door handle and gave it a tug, stepping into the warm confines of the building. The air stilled, and I could almost hear a whispered hush fall over the large expanse as if the books held an energy all their own. I picked up a small movement to my right and quickly turned to investigate.

  The outline of a tall man silhouetted against the dimly lit stacks caught my attention. I strained to get a glimpse of his face, but to no avail, the dark shadows kept him well hidden from view. Uncertain what to do next, I stood there frozen like a statue.

  As if sensing my dilemma, the man suddenly turned and headed towards me, stepping into the light.

  Zander.

  I released my breath and lay a hand over my chest. God, I thought he’d been a government official or something. Still, it was disconcerting, the way he’d stayed in the shadows like some sort of stalker. Shaking my head, I wondered what his endgame was. No, I shouldn’t speculate, at least, not right now. Zander was the only one I could even semi-trust to answer my questions.

  We stared at each other for a moment across the room. Finally, Zander placed a finger to his lips and motioned me over. I cast a last glance around but didn’t see anyone, so I shrugged and headed towards him.

  Zander led me down an aisle of texts toward the back of the library. He stopped at a big oak door labeled Private-Personnel Only. He gave me a reassuring smile, then ushered me inside. We stepped into what appeared to be a modest office. A simple desk consumed the center of the room, and in the corner to the right sat a black filing cabinet. Two piles of records were stacked precariously on a wooden table, looking as if they might topple over at any moment. It seemed surprisingly at odds with P8’s usual perfection. The walls were bare, save for a small picture hanging lopsided near the window with an image of an unpretentious shabby wood cabin buried in snow. It reminded me of home and my heart lurched a little. I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing the memories of Nova to burn out. When I finally opened them, I found Zander standing close to me, barely an inch between us. I didn’t move, unsure of his intentions. All my brain registered was the heady aroma of soap and books emanating from him.

  “You believe me, don’t you?” Zander whispered in my ear, jolting me back to the present problem.

  “I’m not sure I can trust you. But I have no other choice,” I hissed; my voice barely audible.

  “What made you return?” his breath fanned my cheek, and subsequently I came to my senses and retreated creating more of a gap between us.

  I stared him square in the face, but suddenly hesitated. Something in his eyes told me he was holding back. Finally, without thinking, I blurted, “Do you know about the cell phones?”

  He placed a hand over my mouth to shush me. Once he was sure I’d stay silent, he slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket. He pointed at it, then went to the small little desk and removed a pad from the drawer. He frantically began to scribble something down. When he finished, he held it up for me to see. There in his neat, concise penmanship, he’d written a warning.

  IT’S NOT JUST A TRACKER. IT’S A LISTENING DEVICE, TOO.

  I nodded, indicating I understood as a profound hollowness filled me. I didn’t want to believe it, but somewhere deep down, I recognized the truth when I saw it. I swallowed hard. Being here was a risk, talking to him was a risk. Damn, everything was a risk.

  Zander cleared his throat. “Yeah, the cell phones are great, aren’t they? It’s best to get the latest models for all the technological advances.”

  Would whoever was listening to us have noticed the slight pause before he’d answered me? My heart thrummed.

  “You’re lucky. My parents won’t let me get one of the new ones yet. They’re so lame,” I prayed I sounded normal, that nobody would pick up on the slim edge in my voice. I shoved my hands into my back pockets, trying to calm down.

  Zander put the paper back on the desk and wrote again, then lifted it up for me to read. It was a time and date. MEET ME TOMORROW. AT THE GAZEBO IN THE PARK. 5 P.M.

  I nodded, sucking in my breath to hide my trepidation.

  “Yeah, parents can be a real drag sometimes, but don’t worry, one day, you’ll be able to have the fanciest phone you want,” Zander said, stuffing the paper into my palm. He motioned towards the door and mouthed, “go.”

  His command brought me out of my funk. I had to act normal, or I would never get out of this place alive.

  “I hope you’re right. Anyway, I better head out, I promised Mom I’d be home for dinner,” I replied brightly. “Thanks for the homework help.”

  He grinned at me, relief flooding his face. “Sure, no problem. I’ll walk you out.”

  And with that, my fate was sealed.

  Chapter 20

  The following afternoon, I gazed out of the classroom window into the school courtyard with longing. I thought about all the things that might go wrong tonight. I tapped my pencil on the desk, hoping the counting would help keep me from worrying.

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five…

  “Detention is not the place for dreaming, Miss Redwood. Why don’t you get started on that calculus homework in front of you?”

  I turned to see Mrs. Lennor staring at me disapprovingly as she continued to pace around the room like a caged bobcat.

  “Sorry,” I murmured burying my face behind my tablet.

  All the teachers took rotation on who chaperoned the detention hour. This month, it was Mrs. Lennor’s turn. But what made me most uneasy was the fact I’d never seen this teacher before. Not even in my planted memories.

  With one eye still on my tablet, I used the other to look at Mrs. Lennor more closely. She appeared to be in her mid-fifties, with dyed brown hair chopped short to her chin. She wore the standard P8 white blouse and blazer. And around her neck, a very large diamond shaped gold pendant stood out almost gaudily against her otherwise prim appearance. But it was the symbol etched on the surface that really jumped out at me. It was so unusual—an outline of a tree, its roots spread out in an unlikely fashion. I wanted to ask her about it, but I’m sure she would have considered it another excuse not to do my work. Still, I felt some kind of pull to it. How strange. I cast all my attention back to my work, trying to avoid whatever weird juju was coming from the teacher.

  Satisfied I was doing as I was told, Mrs. Lennor returned to her desk and carried on with grading papers. But every few minutes she would look up, her attention focused solely on me as if the other kids in here—and there were at least a dozen—were of no consequence to her.

  I sank down lower in my chair, trying to focus on my math homework. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.

  I had a hunch this teacher had been assigned this post specifically for me—that is, if she was a teacher at all. I wouldn’t put anything past this place. I frowned. Maybe I was getting paranoid. Still, I couldn
’t shake the bad feeling deep in my bones. And I’d learned never to question that.

  Finally, the hour was up, and everyone reached for their bags, eager to escape. But before we were able to leave, Mrs. Lennor held up her hands to stop us.

  “A reminder about curfew, students! No wandering around on a school night past ten p.m., unless you wish to be detained and sent to juvenile camp. For those whose parents haven’t informed you, it’s a rehab center correcting deviant behavior in young adults. The rules are clear. Please obey them.” Mrs. Lennor stared pointedly at me, then turned her attention back on the group. “All right, you’re dismissed.”

  I flew out of there before Mrs. Lennor found another reason to detain me.

  I didn’t have much intel on this juvenile camp, besides what she’d just told us. I had no memories to draw from. Maybe it was something new. But any way you looked at it, it sounded scary. The last thing I needed was a rehab stint. I would never be able to hide my secret in that place. And what would they do to me when they discovered I was a fraud? Was it possible that’s where Orion and the others had vanished to? I shuddered at the thought.

  It seemed like an eternity waiting for five o’clock to roll around. I’d arrived at the park early and found a seat on one of the red park benches, placed at eerie, ninety-degree angles all over the area. They, like the trees, had a symmetrical, ordered pattern that I didn’t understand. This bench was right near the gazebo, so Zander couldn’t miss me.

  I shivered and wrapped my jacket closer. It had turned colder since my arrival in P8, but the saplings hadn’t changed color or lost their leaves as they did in W1 Nova, instead, they stayed the same bright, bottled green. I wondered if I’d ever get accustomed to this strange phenomenon. The only semi-normal thing in the place was the dried grass under my feet which had become crunchy from the frosty temperatures.

  As I waited for Zander, I watched people come and go through the gate. A fence bordered the park, so there was only one way in or out. Red splashes of color dotted the black spires where the spikes and the arches met in the design. If you stared at it long enough, it made you a bit dizzy. I decided to pass the time by counting every spike. It helped soothe my nerves.

  Finally, at five o'clock sharp, Zander entered the gate. He looked good, I’d give him that. He wore a stylish black overcoat paired with shiny boots. The coat had remained unbuttoned, revealing a green dress shirt neatly tucked into dark pants.

  I began to feel a bit underdressed in my violet sweater and jeans. I’d been so eager to get here I rushed out the door, not bothering much with my appearance. Well, technically, I’d climbed out the window while Mom was busy making dinner. I was still grounded, after all. Fortunately, Dad had been running errands. Even my hair, swept up into a simple ponytail—screamed neat, but hardly glamorous. Clearly, I should have tried harder. I pulled my blue jacket tightly closed in an attempt to cover up my casual attire.

  Zander gave me a broad smile as he approached me. “Hi, Luna. It’s good to see you,” he said, coming up and wrapping me in a bear hug. Shocked, my body turned to stone as his arms folded around me. “You left your phone at home, right?” he breathed quietly into my ear.

  “Of course. I’m not an idiot. Now get off me!” I pushed him but he didn’t budge, continuing to clinch me in a vice grip.

  “Luna, hold on a minute,” he whispered. “We have to keep our story straight. If anybody asks, we’re on a date. Got it? We don’t want anyone to question our being together.”

  I sized him up, uncertain. I supposed I should make an effort to relax, especially under the circumstances. He smiled at me a little, joking. “That means if this is going to work, you have to stop looking at me with death lasers.”

  He let me go, and my face flamed all shades of red as I found myself swept into the depths of those crystal blue eyes. What was it about him that made me feel so flustered and awkward, but simultaneously safe and secure?

  I turned away from his intense gaze, my mouth as dry as the desert. Get it together, Luna. You’re acting nuts. The crazy government has warped any normal perspective you may have had. Now play the part Zander asks and fix this!

  Annoyed with myself for losing my cool and shoving him aside, I decided I needed to make it right. Before I could talk myself out of it, I placed my hands on each side of Zander’s face and kissed him.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I whispered.

  Zander placed a finger under my chin, lifting my gaze to his, searching my expression. Looking or hoping for some kind of meaning—despite the fact he’d just told me it was all for show.

  And honestly, I wasn’t sure what he found there. Either way, it scared the crap out of me.

  Zander reached out to grasp my hand, pulling me a little closer. An unexpected surge of joy took over. And it seemed like my body had betrayed me.

  My rational mind screamed; Don’t trust this boy. Get the information you need and move on.

  I cleared my throat and lifted my head. Anything between the two of us would be a recipe for disaster.

  He led me to the far side of the grounds. All the while, thoughts swirled around my brain like angry seagulls. Not a soul milled about on such a chilly afternoon, and we walked the periphery in silence. Finally, Zander settled on a park bench set back in a quiet nook overlooking one of the uniform gardens, which I now realized upon closer inspection, was filled with fake flowers. I supposed anything dead ruined the appearance of perfection, it also went against P8’s guidelines. Even the blossoms were at the mercy of these crazy rules.

  Zander patted the space next to him. “I don’t bite.”

  I rolled my eyes and sat down beside him. I leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Just so we’re clear, I had to sneak out of the house to come here tonight. Getting caught is not an option. We can’t be long.”

  Zander picked up my hand, letting it rest in his. I wanted to pull away, but we had a role to play, didn’t we? Yes, that was it. It had nothing to do with the weird butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

  “I understand. I’ll try to explain as quickly as I can. Firstly, let me ease your fears a little. This is a safe space. I checked it out earlier today. Plus, I left my phone at the library. As far as anyone knows, that’s where I am.”

  “And I’m at home doing my homework.” I added with a sigh. “Well, at least that part is realistic. Between detention and being grounded that should be my only option.”

  Zander’s smile was gentle as he tucked a stray strand of my dark locks behind my ear. “It will get better Luna. I’m working on something big. I simply need a bit more time.”

  I pushed his arm down and stared at him. “What do you mean working on something big? Zander Barringer, how do you know about me?”

  Zander turned away, his eyes glistening. “I had a friend once, his name was Billie. He told me the same thing I’ve just revealed to you now. That he was taking on a huge project. And that he’d uncovered secrets that would change everything. We were supposed to meet up in this very park so he could tell me all about it. He never showed.” Zander looked down then, intertwining his fingers with mine.

  “What happened?” I whispered.

  “It wasn’t like Billie not to show, he was a stickler about being punctual, so I searched for him, but never found him. Later, I learned he’d been seized by the authorities.”

  I gasped. “Where is he now?”

  “Well, that’s the thing Luna. I think he might have been erased.”

  I shivered but not from the cold. “Was he murdered?” I choked out hoarsely.

  “Not exactly. At least, I don’t believe so. When I discovered the government had taken him, it was clear they would never let me visit. So I decided to go home, come up with a plan and return in the morning.” Zander paused as he relived the memory, the past haunting his still features. But after a moment, he straightened his shoulders and continued, “By the next day, nobody even remembered him. I asked my parents if they’d seen Billie, and they inf
ormed me they had no idea who he was. But Luna, that made no sense, because he always hung out at my house. That’s when I realized I was too late. I failed to help my friend when he needed me most.”

  His voice cracked with emotion and I shot up from the bench and began to pace. “So you’re telling me that your friend disappeared and everyone is acting like he never existed?” My tone rose to a fever pitch and Zander glanced nervously around. “Sit down, you’re causing a scene. We’re supposed to be on a date, remember?”

  I stared at him blankly, trying to process his words for a minute.

  Nobody even remembered him.

  My stomach churned, as my mind connected the dots. Nobody seemed to remember Orion, Mara or Jonah either. Was it possible that they had literally been…erased? No. It couldn’t be. I swallowed hard and looked to Zander, who was now tugging at my sleeve, urging me to sit.

  I needed to understand more. But I had to stuff all my questions down and act the part. Zander was right. I sank back down next to him, and he immediately wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Probably in an effort to make light of my little outburst. After all, neither of us knew for sure if anyone saw me. Snuggling closer, I did my best to help cover my mistake.

  Zander appeared wistful for a second, but hastily looked away when he caught me staring at him. I noted his grip on me had tightened and I wondered what it meant.

  He continued his story, voice low. “When he disappeared, I started questioning things. Something weird was going on. Nobody up and vanishes, remembered by no one. I realized at that point there were multiple layers of deception happening here. And someone was lying about everything.”

  I interjected, “Is that how you figured out that the phones were being used to track people? And listen in on their conversations?”

  “No, that came a few months later. Another friend from school, Dafina, began acting strange one day, not like herself. I confronted her about it, and she told me it was nothing. But the flicker of despair on her face was undeniable, pleading with me for help. I decided I would find out what was going on. I didn’t want to lose anyone else. I noticed she started to receive calls at odd times; I never heard what was spoken, but I sensed whoever called was checking up on her. At that point, her other friends, including me, started to get phone calls too. They said they were an investigative branch of the government, and they’d read reports about disruptive behavior from Dafina. They had a few questions they wanted to ask me. The interrogation included weird queries—such as, had I spent time with her recently, and if so, had she said or done anything that might be construed as unusual? The day after I got my first phone call inquiring about her, Dafina went missing, and I woke up with two sets of memories. I remember another life. One before this one.” He peered at me intently. “I suspect you are experiencing the same thing.”