“As I’d said, we didn’t know what they were up to. We started getting orders that were…troubling. We found out the dead rising was true, but we were told to lie about it. Then, they started killing scientists, and that didn’t sit well with my people. What drove us to action was when we learned that the people in charge were planning on moving their families to the Keep so that they could unleash the dead into the city.”
Her mouth gapes. “So that’s what happened that night? They just let the dead in?”
“Not exactly. Once we learned what they’d been planning, we staged a coup and overthrew them, trying to save the city. Unfortunately, not everyone was onboard, and someone let the dead inside. It was a terrible failure.”
“My mom died that night…”
“Loss of civilian life was never our intention.”
“And my boyfriend…he…oh, my God.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I tell her, which is uncharacteristic of me, but it’s not a total lie. “I’m sure they cared deeply for you.”
She snorts in disgust. “My mother, yeah. Not my boyfriend. A couple of weeks into the catastrophe, he sold me to Madam Levy on Salem Street.”
What do I say to that? I didn’t ask her to tell me these things, but it seems like it would be rude to tell her I’m not interested in the sad details of her life.
Shit—I’m masking again. Acting like I’m fucking normal and like I care about her feelings.
But…a part of me does. A small part. I don’t want her to be sad. Perhaps it’s because it’ll make her less willing to have sex with me.
“Madam Levy told you I was nineteen, but I’m actually twenty-two. Before the dead rose, I was the very definition ofpathetic. I worked at a gas station, but I was about to lose my job because I’m so stupid.”
I am not a therapist.
“I dropped out of high school, not because I was edgy or a rebel, but because I couldn’t read. What man would love someone like me? I was stupid to think he loved me.”
My brow pinches together. “You talk well enough, and you were smart enough to survive out there on your own.”
Why am I comforting her?
“I’m dyslexic, and because of that, reading and math are extra hard. My dad disowned me, saying that if I had only studied harder, I’d be smarter. The truth is, I did study, but when it didn’t help, I just gave up.”
I’m not sure if she expects me to say anything, but I can think of no words that would soothe her.
And yes, I do want to soothe her. Not because I’m masking or that I care about her feelings. It’s just that the sadder she is, the harder my life will get.
“What happened to your group at that Keep place?” she asks. “Why’d you leave?”
“They found out about my past and were going to execute me.”
“Your past?”
“Before I was civil police, I was locked up.”
“For what?”
“I was a serial killer.”
“Oh…I guess that makes sense.”
“Saber recruited military and convicts to his cause, so the Keep was a pretty mixed bunch of golden boys and thugs. Most thought I had been military on account of my personality, but I fucked up when I was out on the streets and it made them dig deeper into everyone’s past.”
“What made them dig? Was it what you did to Madam Levy?”
“No, that would have gone under the radar. After you left, I returned to Salem Street and killed the people on the list we’d made, all except one, and it set off all kinds of alarms.”
Fiona’s eyes grow round. Whether it be from surprise or fear, I cannot tell. All I know is that I’m pretty sure I just made a huge mistake.
