Curiosity got the best of me, so I shuffled closer to where I thought they could hear me.
“Oscar,” I panted, catching my breath. “Why are you doing this?”
He didn’t answer.
Worth a shot.
I stayed silent for the rest of the ride until we came to a stop,lurching forward and smacking my head against the bottom of the van. Pain bloomed sharp and hot. I groaned as my body contorted, every part of me on fire—my hands burning, my face throbbing. And if I didn’t find a way out of this, I could feel my heart breaking free from my chest.
Think, Cora. How are you getting out of this?
Marcus' voice was all I could hear, and the day he'd spent training me was all I could see. I listened closely, running through every second of that day in slow motion.
What part of you isn't mine right now?
My mind.
As quietly as I could, I shuffled closer to where I felt Oscar was, clearing my throat. "Oscar, you don't have to do this. We-we can just turn around and sort this out like adults. Marcus thinks the world of you, and I wouldn't want me or anything else to change that." I didn't know whetehr he was listening, but I had to try. "I know you're a good person. Otherwise you wouldn't dedicate your life to helping people like me. Which is why I know that there's some part of you that is hating yourself for doing this right now."
There was no noise in the car except for the soft tread of the tyres and the sporadic growl from the egine. In my head Oscar was considering what I'd said, and when I heard something ahead of me shuffle and cold fingertips graze my cheeks to lift off my blindfold, I thought I'd done it.
His smile told me I'd thought wrong.
"I thought you were a smart girl. But apparently you're not smart enough to use different tactics than the one my own brother taught me to use." His wicked smirk cast shadows over his face. Over me. "You wouldn't like to see the inside of this mind anyway."
In a flash my world was dark again, and for the rest of however long I was stuck there, I didn't utter a word.
Five minutes later, and the van door slid open, metal squealing, and the night air hit my face.
Someone grunted a laugh before hands gripped me, tugging me upright and out into the cold.
“You’re hurting me!” I yelled—almost instantly a hand coveredmy mouth.
“Cry about it later,” Oscar's voice snapped. “Now move.”
Two sets of hands clamped down on my arms, cutting off what little circulation I had left, and I put one foot in front of the other, letting them guide me wherever we were going.
Easier said than done with zero control of my limbs and wearing a dress that now felt ridiculous.
I knew we were inside when the clack of my heels shifted from pavement to the grand echo of marble. In the elevator, I recognised the metallic sound of steel. It confirmed we were heading for the roof. Where Marcus—whether he meant to or not—had broken my heart.
It made me feel like I’d already lost whatever battle this was going to be, the fact that they knew to bring me here. Like they’d planned this down to my weaknesses. First, they chose today—the day I’d been waiting for ever since I found out about Nouvelle. Then they brought me here, where two weeks ago I’d been in this very same elevator with Marcus, knowing he’d asked me on a date. Which meant that maybe the feelings I’d been trying to hide were feelings he also had.
And bad things came in threes. That was just universal. So I stood still, silent, waiting for whatever else they were about to throw at me.
The elevator dinged. I was dragged out, then up the same stairs I’d climbed once before, until we were on the roof, the cold October breeze cooling my cheeks.
Relief flickered—and died the second I heard another voice.
“What time doyou call this?”
It sounded far away, but I heard every word, dripping with an accent that was so familiar. Like mine, only deeper. Rougher.
“Blame Manhattan traffic,” an unfamiliar voice replied—whoever it was still had a hold of me.
Footsteps circled me. “She’s here. That's all that matters,” said Oscar.
“And him?” asked the new voice. I still couldn’t place it. But it was grating on me how familiar it was.
