He drifted through the tiny space, past the kitchenette where she’d cooked, through the opening to their bedroom. The bed was still made, though slightly rumpled, as it always was after Gemma was the last one to wake. He walked passed it without touching it, afraid that if he did, something inside him might break.
He hadn’t been able to speak to her yet, but he knew where she was.
She should’ve beenhere.
He could almost see her moving through the flat, her hair damp from a shower, her eyes tired and soft. The memory of her laugh echoed off the walls like it had a right to still exist here.
Christian slid down the wall of their bedroom and let his head fall into his hands. How the fuck was he supposed to pretend this was normal? How was he supposed to stand in briefing rooms and salute his superiors while the woman he loved lay behind electroglass with a fucking tranq port above her head?
His pulse pounded.
His jaw clenched.
He was going to get her out. No matter what it cost.
The buzz of his doorbell broke the silence. He pulled up the camera feed onto his eyepiece.
Rami.
Fuck me.
When Christian opened the door, Rami’s smile was tired but polite. “May I come in?”
Christian hesitated before nodding once and stepping aside.
Rami entered with his hands folded behind his back. “I thought I’d stop by and check on you. You’ve been through quite a bit lately.”
Christian gave a humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
Rami turned to face him, regret lining his eyes. “I’m sorry about Gemma. I wish there was more I could do.”
Christian said nothing.
“I wanted you to hear it from me,” Rami continued. “Gemma’s situation is . . . complicated. She’s not being treated as a criminal. Not yet. But her conditionisunstable. She poses a risk to herself and to others. You understand that, don’t you?”
His throat tightened. “She’s not dangerous.”
“She’s powerful. And we still don’t understand the extent of what’s changed inside her. Given how she behaved when the Dissent attacked Zion, the president has requested she be transferred to Capital City when we move Nadine.”
Christian’s legs almost gave out. He wanted to argue, to fight, to demand Gemma’s release. But if he did that now, the plans they made to free her would be destroyed.
He forced his face to remain stoic, though his hands clenched at his sides.
“I’m not telling you this to scare you,” Rami said, his expression morphing from concerned adviser to apathetic director and game master. “I know what she means to you.”
Christian’s jaw ticked.
“But you’ll fall in love again,” Rami said, stepping closer. “This doesn’t have to be the end for you too. Stay loyal to the Systems, follow your orders, and the painwillpass with time. Don’t do anything rash.”
Christian swallowed the fury building in his chest. He forced himself to nod. Forced the words to leave his mouth. “I won’t.”
Rami clapped him once on the shoulder. “I’ll let you get back to your evening, then. We’ll debrief in the morning.”
As the door slid shut behind him, Christian turned away. His jaw was clenched so tightly that his teeth hurt. His fisted hands shook. His nostrils flared—
With a roar, he turned and punched the metal wall again and again until the surface dented and the skin on his knuckles split.
Blood smeared the wall. His breath came in short, animalistic bursts.
