12
Chapter Twelve
REESE
I wasn’t sure howthis would turn out, us chastising the apparent mayor of this condemned, screwed, “town”, but I’m gathering that no one has yet put this woman in her place or showed her a light she has clearly been blinded to.
There is nothing but silence filling the depths of this small office, unsaid thoughts floating above each one of our heads. We came in here to tell her she’s doing it all wrong, but maybe we should have come in here with a better solution. I don’t know if there is one.
“You need to make those people like you if you want them to fight. You need to train them and prepare them for war. Taking criminals sick enough to be hospitalized and throwing them into a gauntlet will be a waste of whatever plan you have been trying to accomplish,” Sin says, his anger finally simmering, just a little as he corners her against the wall.
“What exactly are you suggesting, Sinon?” Amelia shoves Sin away from her and straightens her suit jacket over her hips. With her lips pressed together in a straight line across her mouth, she slides by Sin’s frozen stance and begins to pace back and forth. Two steps forward, pivot, two steps back, and repeat. During the time of her pacing, Sin hangs his head between his shoulders as he massages his thumbs into his temples.
“We’ll do it,” I say, soft enough that I’m not sure either of them heard me. However, Amelia stops pacing and turns toward me. Sin cocks his head to the right and holds his gaze on mine. I suppose they’re waiting for me to finish this un-thought-out idea.
“You were always born to be a Sinon, weren’t you?” Amelia says, now looking at Sin.
I’m not sure I understand.
“Did you know he was named after a Greek God, Reese? A warrior at that.”
“A deceiving warrior—a liar, that’s what you named me after. You want me to fool the people of Chipley into thinking we support them so they will fight for us, and in turn, get themselves killed?”
“It’s the only way to get a fresh start,” she says, shrugging her shoulders with a questioning grin.
“Why not train these people to fight and then help them get well once they’ve done their civil duty? Why not give them another chance at life? They have all been punished for whatever crimes they committed—they have been punished worse than what any prisoner should experience.”
“That is absolutely absurd,” Amelia says. “They are prisoners. We absolutely cannot fix our population by reinserting what was wrong with this country in the first place.”
“Deal or no deal,” Sin says. “If you want us to do your dirty work so you don’t get your pretty little suit dirty, then the prisoners don’t get killed off. They get medical help. They get rehabilitation.”
Amelia’s jaw is tight, her cheeks are red and her focus is narrowly pointed at Sin. “Fine,” she says.
“You give us weapons and protective gear, as well.”
“Can she even shoot a weapon?” Amelia asks Sin, rather than asking me. I am sitting right here, fully capable of speaking.
“I—“ I begin to answer.
“She has a better damn shot than I do,” Sin says for me.
“Very well. Dinner will be brought in to you shortly and I will prepare two bedrooms for you to sleep in tonight. First thing in the morning, you will head out to begin preparations with the people of Chipley.”
“Locke!” Amelia shouts.
The door opens immediately and Locke pokes his head in. “Yes, Ma’am?”
“Take these two to the food hall, stay with them until they are finished eating, and then bring them to the sleeping quarters in Hall D. Each will stay in their own room. I will have linens and a change of clothes brought up.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Locke says again.
Sin places his hand over my back as we stand up together, following Locke out the door. “Sinon,” Amelia says softly. I continue walking, showing an amount of respect I don’t think she deserves. Regardless, even out in the hall, I can still hear what she is saying. “I never intended things to be like this,” she says.
“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Sin replies.
“You have to believe me, Sinon.”
“Okay,” he mutters, sounding as if he’s trying to shoo her off.
