I point to my chest. Then cross my arms. Then point to the drone.
I love you.
Another flash.
The drone drifts closer. One edge presses right against the glass, and a low sound seeps through the pane. At first, it’s only a subtle vibration, but then?—
“Grace.”
AJ’s voice. It’s so faint, I have to press my ear flat to hear it.
“Coming for you. During the ceremony.”
No. No, no, no.
I wave my hands, desperate to make him understand. If he waits until the ceremony begins, it’ll be too late. The poison…
“Stall. Need fifteen minutes. After it starts.”
I shake my head, too hard, too long. A wave of dizziness almost takes me down. But I grab on to the sill, straining to hear.
“No other option. Where’s Parker?” AJ asks.
I pull back enough to sign B-O-X. then point to the edge of the group of houses. I never told AJ about the box. I couldn’t remember anything beyond the sound and utter despair.
“Love you. Always.”
The drone rises, higher and higher, until I can’t even see a tiny speck of black against the pre-dawn sky.
The silence filling the room is unbearable now. I crumple to the floor, clutching the blanket around me, and press my back to the wall. Relief and terror twist together until they’re practically one emotion.
AJ’s here. But if I have any hope of seeing him again, I have to survive long enough for him to get to me.
I’m too weak to fight Prophet. Or Brother Malone. Or…anyone. I try to muffle my sobs in the blanket, but I’m cracking into pieces, and they’re so loud, I’m petrified Prophet will hear them. That he’ll somehow know about AJ. About the drone. And that will not only be my end, but the end of everyone I love.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Grace
The harsh clang of the morning bells drags me from a haze of exhaustion. My head pounds, and my stomach won’t stop twisting itself into knots.
I’ve been lying on this wretched bed, working on my words for hours. Nothing complicated. The simplest sounds. Broken syllables I might be able to use to convince Prophet I’m dying now. He won’t like that. He’ll call his father.
Not long after the drone flew away, I remembered Abe. How he was kind to me. How he wanted to help me, but didn’t know how.
“P-poh-suh. Poh-sun. Siii…sick.” I hold onto the brief moment of triumph like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Right now, it is. Those two words might be enough. At least for Prophet.
Abe… Maybe he’ll have a pen? Or maybe…he’ll just know what I need.
Footsteps thud on the stairs. Two sets. Like always. Prophet and Brother Malone.
I burrow deeper under the thin blanket, and as the heavy steps get closer, I start to shake. It’s only partially an act. I’m terrified Prophet will see right through me. Or that he won’t care.
The heavy locks thunk, and the hasps open with a metallic screech.
“Blessed day, Nova,” Prophet says, a hint of reverence in his voice. Brother Malone follows him into the room, sets a tray down on the desk, and retreats back into the hall. But he doesn’t leave. He never does. In case I manage to find a burst of strength or decide to claw Prophet’s eyes out.
God, I wish I could. But I’m so tired and dizzy, I’d probably end up with my fingers poking into the man’s ear instead.
