“You remember Becca? The Minor with dark hair who was rejected four moons ago and cast down to blue?”
I nodded; I didn’t know her really, but I had heard the story from Lo. I took a small sip and shuddered against the bitterness.
“I saw her near the river last moon. I had hoped she could tell me what she did wrong. So I could, we could, you know—not end up like her.”
“Why was she out in public?”
Majors weren’t supposed to be seen. Their work was completed during curfew for the rest of us.
“She said she missed fresh air. Please don’t lecture me; I know I could get in trouble.” Lo sighed as my brows shot up. We weren’t permitted to talk to anyone outside the Minor population, but I was in no position to remind Lo of that after meeting Hal. “I just don’t want to end up like her,” she continued. “I don’t wantusto end up in blue. Anyway, she was drinking one of these. She gave me the rest of it. It gives you so much energy. Now I’ve been sort of seeking her out for them. She’s there every morning following her shift. I went looking for her when you didn’t show up. Thought she might know if you ended up there.”
“You thought I’d mess up?”
Lo threw me a reproachful look. “I didn’t think you’d mess up. I know you, though. You don’t like the way things are. You get upset easily.”
She was right. I had done exactly that—not only with the Starlings but with the youngest member of the Illum.
“Did Becca give you any information?” I asked, shying away from the accuracy.
“Oh, no.” Lo downed the rest of her drink. “She told me they aren’t permitted to talk about it or Low Town or they’re eliminated. Enough about that. Tell me about last night. What happened? How did you do?”
Sapphire eyes flashed before me. I bit my lip, thinking of how Collin had watched me all night. He had been so accepting. Taking a deep breath, I told Lo everything: about the Starlings—“They sound creepy”—to the dress I wore—“Was that what was on your bed?”—and finally, the dinner. I explained the Garden, the food, and the décor.
“And?” Lo probed as the Pod came to a stop. Lo grabbed my cup, downing the rest without a word before shoving my cup and hers into her bag.
“And what?” I asked, following her off the Pod.
“Your proposed Mate,” Lo exclaimed. “You haven’t mentioned him once!”
My cheeks flushed. “He was . . . very nice.” I tilted my head toward the sun’s warmth.
“Very nice! Oh, come on, Emeline! Tell me more than that,” Lo demanded, pulling me toward the building.
We entered the large glass doors, and the chandeliers and their beauty normally dazzled me. But now they were lackluster compared to Collin.
We scanned into the elevator, and as it descended, I admitted, “He didn’t treat me like I was below him.”
“Did he say anything about your defect? Was he pleased with your behavior? Did he say anything about the way you looked?”
“He didn’t say anything about my defect, but it was covered,” I said as the door opened to her floor. “He seemed fine with my behavior, I think.”
Lo stepped into the hall, identical to mine. “I’m happy for you, Emeline,” she said with a smile.
“Thanks. He’s not an Elite.” My heart pounded. The one thing I was afraid to say out loud. The door began to close. “He’s a member of the Illum,” I spat out.
Lo’s jaw dropped, her utter shock following me down.
Yesterday morning, my life had been consistent, predictable. Now I had a proposed Mate who accepted my status. Who had already offered me a contract. Lo was talking to a Major Defect in her attempt to be approved. A different Major Defect drifted back to me. The moment the Pod sent me to the clouds I had pushed away the encounter with Hal completely. In the dark, beneath the surface, the mysterious man in blue returned to my mind.
I opened the door to my office, ignoring the dings from my Comm Device as Lo bombarded me with questions. An ostentatious display of flowers ate up half of my desk, the delicate perfumes engulfing me. As if Collin had gathered the very essence of the Garden and deposited it here just like I had imagined doing last night. My desk had been moved, now centered in the room, facing the wall to the left of the door directly below the hanging light.
“Ah, there you are.”
Sitting in my chair, his feet crossed on my desk, looking entirely at home, was Hal.
He lazily flipped a small notecard between his fingers. “Good morning, or should I say afternoon? For me, it’s almost the middle of the night. Nocturnal life.”
“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling jittery all over. Was it because he was in the room or was it the stimulant drink?
