Word and Breath by Susannah Noel Page A

paused, letting her process what he’d said.

    She had no idea what to say. “Why are you telling me this?”

    “Because you helped me. Because you deserve to know.” He paused for a beat. “And because I want to bring you in.”

    That was what she’d been afraid of. What her instincts had told her was the end of this conversation. “And if I don’t want to be brought in?”

    “Sometimes our personal preferences can’t matter when we look at the big picture.” He pushed his long fingers through his dark hair. “I think you need to be part of this.”

    “What gives you the right to decide for me?”

    “I’m not going to decide for you. I’m just giving you all the information and letting you decide for yourself.”

    “You’ve already gotten me involved. You’ve already put me in danger.”

    Jenson nodded, for the first time glancing down. “I know that. That’s part of the price of what we’re doing. In telling you more, I’m going to put you in even further danger.”

    Riana’s cheeks were flushing with emotion, even as it felt like the blood drained from her face. “What makes you think you can even trust me? What if I turn around and go to the authorities?”

    “It’s a risk,” he replied with a half-shrug. “But I don’t think you’re going to do that. You kept faith with me last week. You resent the Union as much as I do. They killed your parents. And did worse to your grandfather. Although you won’t admit it, I know you want to see justice in this world. That’s what we’re working for. You won’t betray us.”

    He was right—an annoying fact and one that put her at a disadvantage. “What makes you think you know me so well?”

    “I’ve been watching you for years, Riana. Since you were fourteen and started working in the office. You aren’t as private as you’d like to believe. You hate injustice. You have a generous spirit—although no longer an open one. And you believe in something good . Your parents—”

    “I don’t want to talk about my parents.”

    “All right. We don’t have to. But at least acknowledge that I’ve had the time to get to know certain truths about you. You’re trying to live a life without any purpose, and you’re never going to be satisfied that way. You need this, Riana.” He reached out and put a hand on her forearm. “You need it. Let me bring you in.”

    His eyes were mesmerizing, and his voice pierced through long-held defenses.
     
    She recognized the truth in his words.

    That recognition just made her angry, though. She’d worked too hard to build a life for herself and her sister to let Jenson and his quixotic sense of social justice tear it all apart in one conversation.

    “I don’t want it,” she said, her voice low and rough. “It won’t do any good. This purpose, as you put it, won’t change anything about our world. All I want is to mind my own business and have people leave me alone.”

    “But they won’t leave you alone. No matter how hard you try, you can’t live an isolated life. What happens to other people matters to you—and you’re lying to yourself when you insist it doesn’t.”

    His calm voice grated on her nerves. “I’ve managed to do just fine on my own all this time. Your empty moralizing isn’t going to convince me otherwise. Besides, I don’t see the benefit to you in this. It’s risking the safety of your movement by entrusting it to yet another person—and I’m not going to give you anything you don’t already have.”

    “Yes, you are.” He reached out to touch her arm again. “You have gifts you’ve never tapped, Riana, and don’t try to persuade me you don’t. Besides, you’re a Reader, and you love the written word. The Front is the only part of society left that understands and values the power of the word.”

    Something about his statement spoke to her, and it wasn’t just the eloquence of his rhetoric.

    The rising fear overwhelmed any other feeling, however.