“Tell them what happened, Alexis!” Father’s voice bellowed from outside. “Tell them it was the Titans, you know I was—” He grunted like someone had hit him.
My brain finished the sentence for him.—sobbing at the bathroom door, begging you to call the Spartans.
“Ignore him,” the policeman said. “Who killed your foster mother? You can tell me the truth. She was... drenched in blood and foaming at the mouth... it was a particularly...brutal attack.”
I opened my mouth to say it must have been a Titan, but the words didn’t escape.
Charlie could have died tonight. Nyx could have gotten hurt. I rubbed at my wrists and looked the policeman dead in the eye.
“Father killed her,” I said calmly.
Red devil eyes flashed accusingly on his badge.
The policeman clicked off the recorder.
“Thank you, that was all I needed. The system will handle this quickly. He’ll be transferred tonight to the Spartan Federation Penitentiary—he’ll serve life with no parole.” He nodded at me. “He’s out of your hair.”
He stood up and walked out of the trailer.
Outside, Father started shrieking obscenities about killing me (greedy, if you ask me, since he’d already had his shot), but a car door slammed shut and he was silenced.
The female medic stared down at me with disgust, her voice warped as she said, “There was nothing we could do about your eye or ear. You aren’t qualified for hospital treatment.”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
She walked away with her partner.
I was going to miss her positive energy. Not.
Distantly, I was aware that someone was tracing yellow tape that read “contaminated zone” along the walls of the trailer, while another person boarded up the broken window.
People shuffled out.
Time passed in a daze.
I blinked.
The trailer was empty and reeked of sterile disinfectant. It reminded me of the “special drink.”
Neon-green lights cast shadows over the walls as the line of white electric Spartan trucks drove away into the storm. Snow gathered gently on the windowsills.
The three of us were alone.
It was a dream come true; it was a nightmare.
Shaking, teeth chattering, I pulled Nyx off me and jerkily repositioned Charlie on the couch, then I staggered over to the trailer door.
It took me multiple tries to turn the three locks.
With trembling arms, I dragged the old armchair across the floor and shoved it in front of the door as a barricade.
Dim lights flickered in a green haze.
Only after I’d tugged the worn patched blanket off the bed, that none of us had ever slept in, did I lay down beside Charlie on the couch and pull Nyx into my arms.
I couldn’t sleep.
When the blinking digital clock said 5:00 a.m., I gave up trying to rest and stumbled into the bathroom.
