“Those were the letters on the strangers’ clothes,” I noted, frowning. “What does it mean?”
Jace swallowed, clearly recalibrating. “I work with them.” He squeezed my arm gently. “We—I—work for the government. FBI stands for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. My job is to find evidence that the people whom we think are bad people are actually doing bad things. Does that make sense?”
I tried to follow, but my thoughts still moved slowly. “I think so… So you came to the Covenant to get evidence of something? You weren’t interested in the Light?”
“I’m sorry. I had to pretend. It was the only way to get in. Your father,” he said, “is a very bad man, Elior.”
The words hit me like a slap.
“No,” I said automatically. “He—he’s strict, but he—”
“I know what he’s taught you,” Jace said gently, but firmly. “And I know you love him. But he has hurt many people. He hurt you only a few hours ago, baby.”
My head shook on its own. “He was saving us. He said—”
“I know what he said,” Jace repeated, a little more strained this time. “That’s part of how he kept control. That’s how men like him operate—how cults operate. They pretend to be saviors, but only end up hurting the people they’re able to con into believing them. I went there to find proof so that we canstop him—to make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else.”
“So… everything… Meeting me. Being with me. Calling me yours.” My voice wobbled. “Was that all just part of your job? Father was right?”
“No,” he said instantly. “No. God, no.” He cupped my face just barely, his thumbs brushing away tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “Loving you was not part of the job. Caring about you was not fake. None of that was pretend, baby.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. My chest ached, heavy and hollow all at once. “Why—”
“Because it would’ve put you in danger,” he said hoarsely. “Because if your father even suspected—” He stopped himself, gritting his teeth. “Because I was trying to keep you alive. And… mine.”
I didn’t know what to do with that.
“I don’t understand.”
“I knew if I told you who I really was, you’d go to your father.”
My heart felt split down the middle—one half screaming betrayal, the other curling desperately toward him anyway, because he was still here, and Father wasn’t.
And I was scared.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t have anyone else,” I whispered.
“You have me.”
The certainty in his voice scared me more than it comforted me.
I stared at his chest, at the rise and fall of his breathing.
“Where is Father?” I asked quietly.
The room went still.
“He’s in jail,” he said.
The word echoed, strange and unreal. “Jail?”
“Yes. He’s locked up and under supervision.”
“Oh… For how long?”
Jace’s eyes darkened. “He’ll be there until the trial, then, most likely, he’ll be moved to a federal prison for the rest of his life.”
Something inside me cracked.
