I flinch. Stand. Head for the door because I can't keep looking at her tear-stained face knowing I helped put her in this position.
"Oakley?"
I turn.
"Thank you," she says. "For sitting with me. Even though I still hate you."
"I know." I almost smile. "I hate me too."
Then I'm gone, closing the door softly behind me.
In the hallway, I lean against the wall. Close my eyes.
She doesn't forgive me. She hates me. She might die hating me.
And the worst part is, I can't even blame her for it.
Because she's right. We are monsters. Just ones who are finally starting to see what we've become.
Whether that's better or worse than staying blind, I honestly don't know.
fifteen
Vespera
Thephonesitsonmy nightstand like a loaded gun.
Dorian brought it up this morning—actually knocked on my door like a civilized person instead of just barging in—and held it out to me.
"A gesture of good faith," he said. "After yesterday. After the cameras."
I stared at it. My phone. The one they took when they kidnapped me. The one that connects me to the outside world, to help, to escape.
"What's the catch?" I asked.
"No catch." But his jaw was tight, like the words cost him something. "You can call whoever you want. Text. Whatever. Just... don't call the police. Please."
The please was what made me take it. That and the dark circles under his eyes that matched mine. The way his hand shook slightly when I grabbed the phone.
He looked like shit. They all do. Good.
That was six hours ago.
I've been staring at the phone ever since.
Eighty-nine missed calls. Two hundred and thirty-four text messages. Fifty-two voicemails.
Dad: 43 calls, 67 texts, 23 voicemails
The most recent text is from this morning:Vespera, please. I'm begging you. Just tell me you're breathing. I can't lose you too.
The "too" guts me. Mom. He's thinking about Mom.
My chest hurts. Actual physical pain that has nothing to do with rejection sickness.
Stephanie: 31 calls, 103 texts, 19 voicemails
The texts start apologetic and get increasingly frantic:I know you hate me but PLEASE respond/Your dad called me crying/I'm calling hospitals/If they have you I'll get help I don't care what it costs/VESPERA PLEASE
