Page 203 of Because I Killed Him
I reach for the glass of water on the side table and drink slowly, struggling to swallow. Ever since the Blue execution, there’s been a pulse of dread beneath everything, as if something is building, inching toward an eruption.
“Are you worried, Mom?” I ask. “About Dad?”
“I…” She pauses, then redirects. “President Reeve told him there’s going to be an investigation into the Blues for civil credit fraud. Reeve believes they’ve been manipulating their own scores, awarding themselves and their allies thousands of credits. Maybe more. If it’s proven, if it’s exposed… it could change everything, Loredana.”
My grip tightens on the glass, knuckles burning white. I know it’s true. It has to be. How else do the Blues always win? Always walk away clean? How else could Edmund throw away so many civil credits at my expense? The system is rigged. Beneath all the pageantry and order, it tilts relentlessly in the high-citizens’ favor. And this fraud, this mass theft, is the artery of their power.
They won’t let it be severed without a fight.
But Reeve knows that. I saw it in his face during the Blue execution; he’s already in the saddle, gripping the reins, and he knows how many low-citizens are behind him, watching, waiting, and needing him to act. I remember the students’ faces as I left Cloning Theory, lit with the kind of pride that only burns in those desperate for change. People like them are so inspired that if Reeve charges, they’ll follow. After that execution, we all saw what we never dared to believe: The Blues might stand higher, but that doesn’t mean they can’t fall. It just means that when they do, they’ll fall from such a height that the whole world will see.
But Mom still hasn’t answered my question.
“Are you worried?” I ask again. “Do you really think Dad should run?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Why?”
Mom’s gaze stays on the flowers. A faint shadow lingers behind her eyes, but it doesn’t touch her voice. “Because it’s what he was called to do.”
She brushes the dirt from her gloves. Although her chin trembles slightly, she still lifts it, as if she’s already made peace with the cost. I know she’s been carrying this burden since the day she married him, loving a man who stands at the center of conflict and walks willingly into fire. Every morning, she wonders if he’ll come home. Every night, she watches the news for signs of threat. In between, she works tirelessly, managing his image, fending off attacks, shielding him with every ounce of her strength.
I think of all the times she could’ve broken: when the Bliss ban painted a target on Dad’s back, when I was nearly killed in the Speakeasy, when the Blues tried to assassinate President Reeve. But she never did. She kept going, always hiding her wounds behind a smile. But I see past the smile now to the wreckage of her scars. I understand how much of this family rests on her shoulders. And I know Dad does, too.
“I love you, Mom,” I whisper.
She doesn’t look up. She adjusts one last flower in the bouquet, then steadies it with the resolve of someone who’s done this before, caring for Daisy in death the same way she cares for the rest of us in life.
I know it’s over. I accept it. The time is coming, soon, when I’ll let you go. I’ll move on, maybe even try to love someone new, but through it all, the faint mark of your teeth on my finger will stay. Reminding me of you. Of us. And of how, if things had been different, I’d have ridden on the back of your hoverbike all the way to the end.
—CHARLOTTE DEERING, JOURNAL ENTRY
CHAPTER 48
Subject: Cloning Theory Exam
Dear Miss Waldsten,
I am writing to sincerely apologize for the incident that occurred in my lecture room before the Cloning Theory exam. It was deeply regrettable, and I accept full responsibility for allowing the situation to escalate. While I realize that removing you from the exam was unfair, I believe—given the volatility of the moment—it was the most appropriate course of action.
Please rest assured that there is no formal investigation by the Coppers into the contents of the video presented. You are not under scrutiny, nor should you be concerned.
However, I must inform you, with regret, that your failure to take the exam has resulted in an incomplete mark for the course. As a result, your only option is to request private instruction from one of the second-year Cloning Theory professors when you return to Grandmaster University after summer break. If the professor determines that you are adequately prepared, you willbe allowed to take the first-year exam and, if successful, earn the corresponding academic credit.
Please be advised that these arrangements must be officially initiated and confirmed before the end of the academic year, May 31st.
Once again, I sincerely apologize for the disruption and its effects. I wish you a peaceful summer. May you always be virtuous.
Yours sincerely,
Professor Ron Hollings
Cloning Theory Faculty
Rage burns in my gut as I read the email. All that studying, all the stress and brain bleeds from trying to make sense of that quack science, have been flushed down the drain.
But my anger isn’t for Hollings. It’s for Rosamund.
