by Dylan Steel
She shook her head angrily. “No. I thought I knew. But now I think I’m finally starting to really understand.” She clenched her jaw. “You should’ve told me. Before now. You should’ve told me as soon as you knew what they were planning.”
He frowned. “I wanted to. But it wasn’t safe for you before. I had to wait until—”
“—it’s still not safe,” she snapped. “I still have to meet with Ms. Verdan. Telling me now means you waited all that time for no reason. You could’ve just told me from the beginning.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Or not at all.”
The color drained from his face. “Th-that doesn’t make sense. There’s no reason for them to continue. They closed the investigation. They arrested Sophia—”
“Well, I certainly can’t tell you why,” she huffed, “but I know what they told me, and I’m still meeting with her.” Her nostrils flared. “They’re not done testing me. So it sounds like this whole stupid strategy of yours was for nothing.”
“It wasn’t my strategy. I was following the—”
“I was on your side! You should’ve told me!” she screamed at him, not caring if anyone could walk by a nearby door and overhear them. “Eprah decides who’s important and who’s not—who lives and who dies. Those are choices we don’t get! Those are the choices I thought I was fighting for!” She paused and took a few breaths, trying unsuccessfully to calm herself. “The Lawless are supposed to be better—different than Eprah. But they’re not. They want things their own way, and it’s no better.”
“Not all Lawless,” Mr. Walsh said quietly. “And all the Lawless who’ve died—that’s still on Eprah. There was a lot of disagreement on what to do. It was an incredibly difficult decision—it wasn’t made lightly…” He met her eyes deliberately. “But you did tell me you’d do anything. You agreed, even though I told you that you would know only misery without explanation.” He blinked, adding, “And all people make mistakes, even the Lawless. But you were safe. You were always safe.”
Bitterness welled up inside her. “So you’re telling me I should follow along with whatever the Lawless want to do, just because they might be a little bit better than Eprah, sometimes? That I shouldn’t question decisions because they really want the best for me—for all of us, and I should just trust them?” She crossed her arms and snorted, leaning back against the rail. “Sounds awfully familiar.”
“I warned you there would be a great cost from the beginning, Sage. I know you’re young—you were even younger when I told you that—too young—but we don’t have the luxury of waiting for you to grow up. Your life could be forfeit the moment you graduate. And like it or not, that day is only getting closer. Whether you fight Eprah with us or not, you will be fighting for your own life every single day of your life—no matter how long or short that is. You have no choice. None of us do.”
“What would you do?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “If you were me. If everyone—everyone—in your life had lied to you. Who would you trust?”
He shook his head slowly. “I honestly can’t answer that, Sage.”
She gritted her teeth and looked away, hugging her knees tighter. “Neither can I.”
“Sage,” Mr. Walsh began hesitantly, “I hate to ask anything more of you—but I don’t have an alternative. I know you’re angry with me right now, and I understand that. But I need to know. Not if you still want to be Lawless—I don’t need to know that right now, and I don’t expect you to have an answer for me right away—but I at least need to know if my secret is still safe with you.”
He swallowed. “I told you that you would be fighting for your life every single day. I already am. I would hope that, even though you’re angry, that you are still the girl your parents raised. That you still care.” He paused. “If you decide you need to tell them the truth about… about me, I hope you would care enough to warn me before revealing where my loyalty truly lies.”
“I-I don’t want them to kill you,” she whispered.
He nodded, visibly relieved. “What will you tell them? Mr. Gaztok, Ms. Verdan… They’ll know if you lie to them.”
“I don’t know. I—” She bit her lip. “Sometimes they word the questions in ways I can answer without lying. But if they don’t—” She lifted her eyes. “I’d tell you. I’d warn you,” she said firmly. “They’ll know if I’m lying. I have to tell the truth. But I’d tell you. If they ask a question that—”
“I doubt they’ll ask about me specifically,” Mr. Walsh said quickly, reassuring her. “They don’t suspect me anymore. Not after my arrest a few years ago. They have no reason to ask you about me when there’s no known connection to your kidnapping.”
Sage nodded, looking away again. The stairwell was eerily quiet for a few moments before Mr. Walsh spoke again.
“I am sorry, Sage. I wish there’d been another way. I…” he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped himself. His fingers curled into a fist, dropping to his side. “I don’t know if you have any other questions for me or not, but I’ll answer them if I can.”
She shook her head. “None that matter. Not anymore.”
His mouth formed a tight, pained line. “You did save Lita,” he said softly.
A tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it aside. “Can I just be alone? Please?” she said weakly. “I just—I want to be alone.”
Mr. Walsh stood without saying a word and began walking down the stairs. He paused just before he was out of sight and looked back at her.
“It may not feel like it right now, Sage, but I want you to know that you can still come to me with anything. I’m still on your side, even if you decide you no longer want to be on mine.”
19. CANCELED
The rising chatter in the classroom was quickly subdued when the headmaster’s form flickered into view.
“Terribly sorry, children, but due to your instructor’s absence, this class is canceled today. Please begin making your way to the Common Lounge where you will spend the remainder of your period as a free study. Thank you for your cooperation.”
As soon as the headmaster’s projection disappeared, the room was filled with noise from uninhibited conversation and chairs scraping against the floor. Other than a couple of the boys in the front, no one seemed terribly sad about missing today’s science class.
Penelope looked up from her desk and shot Sage a bewildered look. “You don’t think she’s…”
Sage shook her head. “No way. I’ve seen the same recording before when an instructor was late for class. Turned out he was just sick. Besides, they’d tell us if she ran out of—” She was cut short by the stampede of students racing past her.
Tucking her databook under her arm, Penelope stood and motioned for Sage to follow. They traipsed into the hallway after their classmates, but instead of turning down the next corridor, Penelope kept walking.
Sage hesitated, deliberating, then hurried to catch up to her. “What are you doing?”
“Just getting a little turned around. Completely by accident, of course.” Penelope winked. “You’re coming, right?”
“Pen, I—”
“Oh, don’t worry so much. It’s been months since you’ve had an escort. They don’t care what you do anymore.”
Sage made a face. “I don’t know if that’s true…”
“It’s not like we’re trying to leave the Institution or anything. We’re just taking a small detour on our way to the lounge.”
“You’ve got to be the worst ambassador ever.” Sage snorted.
“Not true. There was a guy like twenty years ago who got himself and four other people shunned for sneaking into the cafeteria after lights out.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad…”
“I think it’s what they did with the food they stole afterwards… when they snuck into the instructors’ quarters with it…”
Sage’s eyes widened. “What did they…”
“Let’s just say they didn’t win any awards for loyalty. Also,
a few of the instructors may have had to switch rooms for awhile—at least until they could figure out where the eggs were hidden.”
“Gross.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you know this how?” Sage raised her eyebrow dubiously.
“I have my ways.”
“Right.” She shook her head. “So basically, you’re telling me you’re going for second place. Just getting one other person shunned with you. Thanks,” she said dully.
“Oh, please. You think I’d settle for second place?” Penelope grinned mischievously. “If I’m going down, it’s going to be in style.”
Sage shot her a disapproving look as they neared the end of the hallway. She hadn’t even realized where they were headed until Penelope pushed back the tapestry and slipped behind the wall.
“Really?” Sage bit her lip as she ducked behind the tapestry, letting it fall back into place. “In the middle of the day?”
Penelope shrugged. “Not like anyone’s going to notice.”
“But we’re supposed to go to the Common—”
“Race you to the top!” Penelope gave Sage a slight shove. “Loser does the winner’s tech assignment!” she shouted over her shoulder, taking the stairs two at a time.
“No fair!”
The girls sprinted to the top of the stairs, flinging open the door. Sunlight fell across their faces as they skipped over the roof, plopping down near the edge.
“It didn’t count,” Sage panted. “You had a head start.”
“Life’s not—” Penelope wheezed, “—fair, Miss Indarra,” she said as formally as she could while she gulped in air. “You know that.”
Sage’s eyes darkened.
“Besides,” Penelope continued, not noticing the change in her countenance, “I really really don’t want to do that tech assignment, and you’re way better at it than I—whoa, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Sage dragged her fingertips through the gravel.
Penelope’s smile faded, her brow scrunched up in irritation. “Um, no. Try again.”
Sage chewed her lip. The past few weeks, she’d made a point to bury herself in assignments. She’d been working ahead in her classes so that she didn’t have time to think about everything Mr. Walsh had told her about her kidnapping. Despite her best efforts at avoidance, she had no such relief when she slept. Sophia Bennick haunted her dreams every night. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever stop seeing her face.
“Sage?”
Her eyes snapped forward. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Just thinking.”
Penelope crossed her arms and looked at her expectantly.
Sage let out a sigh. “There hasn’t really been a good time to tell you.”
“Seems like a good time to me now.”
“I guess…” A pang of guilt struck her. She hadn’t had a chance to tell her about her most recent conversation with Mr. Walsh—not with the constant lack of privacy in the Institution. Of course, it didn’t help that she’d been ignoring the issue altogether.
“Remember when I snuck out after lights out a few weeks ago?”
Penelope nodded.
“I was on my way here—which you probably figured—”
She nodded again.
“—but I ran into Mr. Walsh on the way up here. And…” Sage’s eyes filled with tears.
“It’s ok,” Penelope said soothingly as she scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “What happened?”
Sage hugged her knees. “It was true the whole time, Pen.” She looked up. “It was the Lawless. They’re the ones who took me.”
Penelope’s face was blank for a moment before screwing up in confusion. “What do you—that’s not possible. When it comes to the Lawless, Mr. Gaztok lies about pretty much everything.”
“That’s what I thought,” Sage said miserably. “And I—” she choked, “—I told them everything.”
“You didn’t know,” Penelope quickly pointed out. “And you had to tell them the truth—you told me—they would’ve known if—”
“I killed her,” she said softly.
“What?”
“Sophia Bennick. I told them about her, and they arrested her.” Tears streamed down her face. “I didn’t think she was Lawless. Not really. They let me believe—” Her voice caught. “They killed her. Because of me.”
Penelope said nothing, hugging her tighter.
“Th-they should’ve… t-told me,” she said between sobs.
“Why didn’t they?” Penelope asked softly.
“H-he said they knew I’d be questioned.” She sniffed. “I think—they didn’t want me to be shunned.” She shook her head. “But they didn’t expect me to ever actually see Sophia. And I wouldn’t have—” she bit her lip, “—if I hadn’t tried to escape. She’d still be alive.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Sage. You didn’t know who she was—what they’d do.”
Sage dragged the back of her fist across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. “That’s just the thing—I’m not sure. I feel like part of me thought it might actually be true. And I—I didn’t care.”
“What are you saying?” Penelope stared at her.
“I mean… I was so angry about what happened. I didn’t think it was the Lawless, but… I kinda didn’t care if it was. Because if it was the Lawless, I thought they shouldn’t have done it. Not without telling me.” She swallowed. “I was so mad, Pen. I didn’t see any reason that they would’ve done it.”
“Why did they?” Penelope’s jaw was still hanging open.
“They did it to save Lita and the others. The ones who’d disappeared,” Sage said, her voice laced with bitterness. “Apparently, my life is worth quite a bit to Eprah while I’m still a student.”
Penelope blinked. “Oh.”
Sage clenched her teeth. “I can't trust them anymore. I can't trust anyone,” she said resolutely. “He was right about one thing. We don't have much time before we graduate. I have to look out for myself.” She turned to Penelope. “So do you. No one else is going to. Not even the Lawless.”
“But you don't think... You can’t mean that. You can't possibly think that everything with Eprah is ok.”
“Of course not,” Sage said, “but how am I supposed to trust somebody that treats me just as badly? They should’ve told me.”
“Do you know what you would have done though? If they’d asked?” Penelope’s eyes were wide.
“If they’d asked me then?” Sage bit her lip and turned away. “I don’t know. I wish I could say I’d just tell them I’d be shunned if it would save Lita, but… I really don’t know. Not after—” She shook her head. “No one should spend that much time alone. It’s—it’s not ok.”
Sage wrapped her arms around herself. “I know it’s awful. I know how selfish that sounds.” She wrinkled her brow. “I would’ve said yes. I would’ve,” she mumbled to herself. “But they didn’t ask.”
The two girls sat quietly for a few moments, allowing themselves to get lost in their thoughts.
It was Penelope who finally broke the silence.
“So what now?”
Sage shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can be Lawless anymore. I don’t trust them, and they obviously don’t trust me either or they would’ve told me what they were planning—and they definitely won’t trust me now that I’ve turned one of them in.”
Penelope’s lips parted slightly as her brow knit together worriedly. “What about Mr. Walsh? Do you think you can still trust him?”
“I-I don’t know,” Sage admitted. “He… he asked if I would turn him in.”
“What’d you say?” Her face had lost a shade of color.
“Not if I could help it. But if they actually asked me directly… I couldn’t lie. They’d know if I did, Pen.” She exhaled slowly. “I told him I’d at least warn him if I had to tell them something. But I don’t know what else I could do.”
“Oh.” Penelope paused thoughtfully and then met her eyes. “
Would you ever turn me in? If I was Lawless?” Her gaze was piercing.
“Of course not.” Sage frowned at her. “You’re my friend. Besides, you’re not even Lawless. Mr. Walsh told me you were way too young, and I was only gone a year.” She snorted, then furrowed her brow. “Why? He’s not trying to recruit you now, is he?”
“No,” Penelope said, dropping her eyes to the ground. “I just wanted to know. Your time away… it changed you.” Her eyes flitted back up. “And it changed me,” she said seriously. “I don’t think either of us are the same scared little kids we were when you first got here. We know too much—way too much now.”
“I still don’t trust Eprah, but I don’t think I can afford not to act like I do. Completely,” Sage said begrudgingly. “Not that I haven’t already been trying, obviously, but… it might be a little easier now if I’m not actually siding with its enemies.”
“I get it. I do.” Penelope studied the ground in front of her. “I just—I don’t know. If you still hate Eprah, I guess I don’t see why you wouldn’t stay Lawless.” She flicked a few pieces of gravel. “They’re at least trying to do some good. Even if they messed up.”
Sage looked at her incredulously. “They really messed up, Pen. And at least one person wound up paying for it—and that’s my fault now. It’s not exactly like I can go to sleep tonight and forget all about it by the time I wake up tomorrow morning. It doesn’t just go away. Not ever.”
“I know, but…”
“Are you kidding? Why are you defending them?” Sage crossed her arms.
“I’m not. Not really…” She trailed off, pensive. “Sophia made her choice. You can’t blame yourself for it, and neither can they. And I guess—you saw what the Lawless did to you when you were gone. I saw what Eprah did to all of us when they thought they were losing control.” Penelope looked her squarely in the eye. “It was scary. The way they treated us… They’re supposed to care more about us than basically anyone. That’s not at all how it felt.”
Sage just stared at her, her mouth hanging open.
“I’m not saying you have to stay Lawless,” Penelope added quickly. “Just that it’s still better than the alternative.”