long we sit there, my thumb running lazy circles over the top of her hand, but I do know it’s my favorite part of the day and no matter what, no matter the personal cost, I’ll never willingly give it up. Even though this stolen time we share could mean death for me and worse for her, it’s worth it.
I know it’s selfish. Of course, it’s not any more so than keeping the truth from her. I want to tell her what I’m doing. What my family and the other members of the Underground are doing. I want to steal her away from this place. Away from her monsters—the imagined and the real. Away from Mother and her ever-changing and ruthless laws, away from the abhorrent things she’s done to the Citizens. To my family and friends. And even worse, to her .
She’s anything but the silly, simple-minded girl everyone thinks she is. She knows I have secrets. Just as she does. But she lets me keep them. If it’s because she’s hoping one day I’ll open up to her, which slices a long line of guilt into me, or if she just believes that people are entitled to keep to their own counsel, I don’t know. However, every time we meet like this, I’m reminded of how much I’m keeping from her. And it eats away at me. Little by little. More and more each time, like the seawater corroding parts of the City without proper maintenance.
I don’t know exactly what will happen if I do tell her. The possibilities are endless. But one thing is for sure. She’ll hate me. She’ll never believe that I never wanted to hurt her, or that I only want her for her, not what she can do for the Underground. Not what my own mother wants me to get from her. Even though it started out that way, things changed. Rapidly.
What would be worse than her hating me, what I can’t risk, is that she’ll walk away. If that happens, even if she doesn’t tell Mother what we’ve been planning and Mother doesn’t kill me, Evie might as well stick a knife in my heart herself, because that would be better than living without her.
Then again, if I don’t tell her, and Mother continues with the plans that our intel seems to be pointing to, I’d rather her hate me. Because I don’t want her to be what Mother wants her to be.
I’m just about to tell her. To let everything out in one long rush of words, when she squeezes my hand and sits up.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice is quiet, but still retains the raspy breathiness that I love.
I can’t do it. I can’t risk it. Not now. There are other ways. And other days. So I just kiss her forehead, then pull her head back down to my shoulder.
“Nothing.” My tongue trips on the lie. “Everything is perfect.”
CHAPTER TWO
For the next few hours, I wander around Sector Two, pretending to be shopping in the Farmer’s Market, or considering jewelry at my mom’s favorite jeweler, admiring the artful handiwork of some of the metal workers from Three. When I can stay out no longer, I sneak into my parents’ apartment. Because home is where you go when you have nowhere else to go. And, even at sixteen, no one knows how to make things better than Mom.
My appointment as Miss Evelyn’s Suitor has granted me an apartment in Sector Two, despite my “inadequate” status of being the offspring of mechanical engineers. I’ll keep it for as long as I remain a Suitor. Should she not choose me, I will be remaindered back into the care of my parents. So Mother says.
A sick feeling is eating away at my gut, and I can’t pretend not to know why. It’s not that I’m not supposed to be here—in my parents’ apartment—anymore, even though I’m not. Or that I’m worried my mother will want to know what I’m doing out so close to curfew—she already knows. It’s the thoughts I’ve been having since my tryst with Evie.
Guilt weighs on me. I feel almost like I’m drowning in it. It was obvious she hadn’t believed me. She’s nothing if not observant and, being who she is, she can recognize a lie from a
I know it’s selfish. Of course, it’s not any more so than keeping the truth from her. I want to tell her what I’m doing. What my family and the other members of the Underground are doing. I want to steal her away from this place. Away from her monsters—the imagined and the real. Away from Mother and her ever-changing and ruthless laws, away from the abhorrent things she’s done to the Citizens. To my family and friends. And even worse, to her .
She’s anything but the silly, simple-minded girl everyone thinks she is. She knows I have secrets. Just as she does. But she lets me keep them. If it’s because she’s hoping one day I’ll open up to her, which slices a long line of guilt into me, or if she just believes that people are entitled to keep to their own counsel, I don’t know. However, every time we meet like this, I’m reminded of how much I’m keeping from her. And it eats away at me. Little by little. More and more each time, like the seawater corroding parts of the City without proper maintenance.
I don’t know exactly what will happen if I do tell her. The possibilities are endless. But one thing is for sure. She’ll hate me. She’ll never believe that I never wanted to hurt her, or that I only want her for her, not what she can do for the Underground. Not what my own mother wants me to get from her. Even though it started out that way, things changed. Rapidly.
What would be worse than her hating me, what I can’t risk, is that she’ll walk away. If that happens, even if she doesn’t tell Mother what we’ve been planning and Mother doesn’t kill me, Evie might as well stick a knife in my heart herself, because that would be better than living without her.
Then again, if I don’t tell her, and Mother continues with the plans that our intel seems to be pointing to, I’d rather her hate me. Because I don’t want her to be what Mother wants her to be.
I’m just about to tell her. To let everything out in one long rush of words, when she squeezes my hand and sits up.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice is quiet, but still retains the raspy breathiness that I love.
I can’t do it. I can’t risk it. Not now. There are other ways. And other days. So I just kiss her forehead, then pull her head back down to my shoulder.
“Nothing.” My tongue trips on the lie. “Everything is perfect.”
CHAPTER TWO
For the next few hours, I wander around Sector Two, pretending to be shopping in the Farmer’s Market, or considering jewelry at my mom’s favorite jeweler, admiring the artful handiwork of some of the metal workers from Three. When I can stay out no longer, I sneak into my parents’ apartment. Because home is where you go when you have nowhere else to go. And, even at sixteen, no one knows how to make things better than Mom.
My appointment as Miss Evelyn’s Suitor has granted me an apartment in Sector Two, despite my “inadequate” status of being the offspring of mechanical engineers. I’ll keep it for as long as I remain a Suitor. Should she not choose me, I will be remaindered back into the care of my parents. So Mother says.
A sick feeling is eating away at my gut, and I can’t pretend not to know why. It’s not that I’m not supposed to be here—in my parents’ apartment—anymore, even though I’m not. Or that I’m worried my mother will want to know what I’m doing out so close to curfew—she already knows. It’s the thoughts I’ve been having since my tryst with Evie.
Guilt weighs on me. I feel almost like I’m drowning in it. It was obvious she hadn’t believed me. She’s nothing if not observant and, being who she is, she can recognize a lie from a
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