ELISE ROE:
I needed to tell him.
Andi woke up before I did, set breakfast in front of me. Orange slices, oatmeal. He smiled and pulled a chair out to eat with me.
I couldn’t even put my fork in my mouth.
I couldn’t even put my fork in my mouth, and he noticed. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I lowered my eyes, stirred my oatmeal around. “I’m not hungry.”
Training started today, and he still didn’t know.
My morning blurred. The bus stop. Joseph. Blurred buildings. Thank you, and goodbye, and past the storefront for designer purses with 18-karat gold buckles.
But I didn’t go into my regular office building. I walked one street over, into a one-story building with foggy windows.
No one in the waiting area. I stood for a second, tried to find a place to sign in. The front desk was empty. Was I supposed to wait for something?
Then I heard it: My boss’s voice from behind a door. My name.
If you think too hard, you play it safe.
Down the hallway, toward the door. His voice got louder, but the words were still unintelligible.
I crept closer. Shoulders back, chin up, trying to ignore the sweat beading at the nape of my neck.
“Is this all we have?” An authoritative voice.
My boss. “Yes. It’s a balance of quantity and quality. I trust these recruits. It’s enough to monitor and contain the Run-downs. The budget can’t expend its resources on a gentler solution.”
A chair slid back. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Please.
“Trust? You’ve only been working with them for a few months.”
He laughed. “I’ve been working with this group for over half a year now. They are trustworthy—even Elise Roe.”
My fingernails dug into my palms. Trust? What about a week ago with the keys?
“Hmm.” The authoritative voice stacked papers on a desk. “She’s the first woman in the Corps. She must be desperate as hell. You can’t trust desperate people.”
My back pressed against the door frame. He was right. I was desperate. He couldn’t trust me. If one of them opened that door right now, they’d never trust me again. I’d never get Mom and Dad back.
“Elise!” Nik ran up to me, and I cursed under my breath.
I spun around. “Hey! Is this the room where I’m supposed to be?” I pointed at the door behind me.
“That’s the conference room.” He gave me a look—almost pity. “Follow me.”
I followed him farther down the hall. Twice. He’d covered for me twice now.
“You said you were fighting for someone too.” My voice wasn’t shaking, right? “Who are you fighting for?”
“My sister. Can’t believe I can save her.” He shook his head. “Don’t look so excited. They did this on purpose. We’re easy to recruit. Easy to train. And”—his face darkened—“easy to replace.”
Knots in my stomach.
“We can get them back.” I told him, “That’s all that matters.”
Nik and I were handed thick Kevlar uniforms and directed to the locker rooms to change.
I pressed my back against the door. Stared at myself in the mirror. My uniform was stiff, suffocating. Those three rings. Those letters: CPC.
She must be desperate as hell.
“Yes, I am.” I said to my reflection.
I slipped off my beanie, stuffed it in my pocket.
I’d do anything for my family.
Nik led me into a giant garage. Concrete floors and walls. On the far side of the room, men threw knives at red targets. Bullseye every time. They laughed, hit each other on the back.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Picture Mom braiding your hair. Picture Dad and his lopsided smile. Picture Andi, Chaos, Ivy.
Nik joined the other men, trying to throw a knife, too. It missed the target completely and clattered to the floor. Laughter.
Nik held up the knife and handed it to someone. “You've gotta teach me how to do that.”
His words were lost in the other sounds of the building. The thunk of knives hitting the targets. The hum of the air conditioning. Footsteps. Chattering and echoes of the men.
I scanned the room, forced myself to focus. I would do anything for my family.
I took a deep breath. Walked over to the targets. Picked up my knife. My reflection on the blade.
My hands were still shaking, and my reflection jumped around. My eyes. My mouth. My forehead. Back to my eyes.
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