Summer Ruins by Trisha Leigh Page B

probably more like a minute, the utter silence in the room makes me want to scream.
    It’s odd to be impatient at one’s own sentencing, but that’s how I feel. We’ve been waiting for weeks for the Prime to return, for him to pass his judgment and order our deaths, and now that it’s finally here I don’t want to wait. I try to concentrate on how we’re going to communicate when to travel, or whether it will work through the gloves, or if we’ll be able to stay together since we can’t touch one another. We probably won’t.
    But if the bracelets work it’s our best chance. Even if we’re separated, we have a place to meet now and we all can read the maps well enough to figure out how to get back to the cabin. I’m waiting for one of the boys to give some kind of signal that it’s time to go or for a perfect moment to arise.
    For some reason, I’m curious to know what the Prime will say.
    He ends the torturous quiet and my curiosity. “We meet again, abominations.”
    It’s as though he’s waiting for us to say something, but none of us do.
    “I am so pleased you decided to join us here at the Core. We’ve never had human guests before—even half-humans such as yourselves.”
    “Half is not a whole, not good enough, not whole enough like me. But not special. Not special enough to live, not like Kenda.” She quiets into a pout when her father shoots her a look, crossing her arms across her chest like a child.
    They’re all dressed the same today, in black with red accents. The Prime and his son, their blond hair glinting, black eyes shining and deadly, are both clad in black pants and button-up shirts, with pressed jackets completing the ensemble. Red rings their waists and the cuffs of their sleeves, and from where I sit the thick black bands that hug their throats seem to throb in time with their heartbeats. Kendaja’s wearing what looks like the same knee-length black dress she wore the night they captured us, the long hair that hangs halfway down her back brushed out and glinting under the bright lights. Her red lipstick is smudged on the right side, the side she licks more than the other, and a glossy red belt wraps her tiny waist.
    Maybe they have special outfits for murdering people.
    The thought strikes me as funny and a giggle escapes. It’s followed by the realization that I haven’t been this close to completely losing my mind since the night Mrs. Morgan went berserk in the kitchen and I knocked her head against the door. The memory sobers me.
    “There’s no need to draw this out. We’ve determined from studying your counterpart that there is no scientific purpose for keeping the three of you alive. Your parents handle the elemental control of the planet, and will continue to do so until they produce true heirs. Any last words before my daughter dispatches you?”
    “Dispatch means kiss, kiss, I’m going to kiss you last, Autumn, the apples are so sweet, they’re my favorite I love them, love him, love you, it’s going to taste so good. Your life tastes like love and—”
    “Enough!” The Prime smacks his hand on the railing in front of them, finally stopping his daughter’s rant the moment before I start sobbing. “Stop talking about it. Do it in whatever order you wish, Kenda, just get it done.”
    She sticks her tongue out at her father, then licks her lips as she descends the steps toward us. The scents of pine and winter, apples and smoke, collide with my scent of jasmine. The evidence of our fear infuses the air, and the uncontrollable heat inside me tries to push through my hands. The gloves force the heat back into me, and hopelessness rips a cry from my throat. Maybe the bracelets will be enough for us to travel, but if they’re not…
    I try to kick Kendaja as she tiptoes toward Lucas, sucking on a finger and grinning around the drool. She’s out of range of my foot, and as she leans in toward Lucas, he turns his head to me and mouths now .
    In the next second, three