“Being dismembered is inconvenient. I don’t know about death.” He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. “We had to put on a good show so Slater Orange would believe him when he said he tried to stop me, and that I got away with the message before he could.”
“Robert wanted you to find me?”
“Robert caught the message and brought it to me. House Orange would not have taken you in with kindness. Slater Orange is a vicious dictator.”
“Which makes him so different from the other heads of Houses?”
“Which makes him different from Oscar.”
“What about House White?”
“What about it?”
“They showed up on my farm. Looking for you.”
“I know. We don’t know who tipped them off.”
“Maybe your friend Robert?”
“I don’t think so.” At my look, he shrugged. “It’s possible, but I’d be surprised. We go back a long way. So?”
“So?” I echoed.
He held up the drop with my mother’s message. “If you want, I’ll leave you alone to watch it. Or I can sit with you.”
“I think . . . I think I’d rather watch it alone.” I got up and he pressed the little packet onto my palm.
“If you need me,” he said, running his warm fingers down the outside of my arm, “I’ll be right out there on the other side of the door.”
“I know. I’ll be out soon.”
He shut the door, and I sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed my eyes. I felt like I’d been up for days. Considering how little sleep I’d gotten before Neds and I had gone out for coffee this morning, I really had been up for almost two days straight.
At least here in the room it was quiet and quasiprivate. That reduced my chances of saying or doing something stupid in front of the others. I didn’t want to ruin my hope of staying with House Gray, even though it meant giving up my freedom.
What I wanted was sleep.
What I needed was to talk to Neds. If he could use House Brown’s network to figure out what Quinten’s message meant or maybe to find where it originated, I would at least have a trail to follow that might lead to my brother.
I stared down at the drop in my hand.
What I had to do was watch this message.
It had been so long since I’d seen my mom, since I’d heard her voice. It seemed strange I’d be seeing her here, now, so far away from the home and surroundings in which I knew her in most.
I moved to the head of the bed and pressed the drop into the small indent in the bedside table.
An image caught fire on the wall across from me.
A woman’s face appeared there, a little out of focus and bathed in a soft green light, but clear enough to make out her features.
I held my breath, memories clutching at me with sharp fingers. She looked older, thinner, her hair cut so short it made her eyes look too wide and robbed her of the softness I remembered. But that was her. Definitely her. My mother.
I exhaled and pulled my shoulders back.
Mom’s thumb was pressed against the screen of whatever recording device she was holding. The room around her was dark, just a slice of light coming in from under what must be a door.
“My name is Professor Edith Case,” she said in a rough whisper that stilled my heart. “If you receive this message, I implore you take it to House Gray and invoke the decency of jury and trial offered to all human citizens. I believe my husband, Dr. Renault Case, may be alive and on the property registered in the name of Case under House Green.”
