Despite the cultures and practices once prevalent in the region, there’s no chance she was brought up in a faith system; not when her father was loyal to the authoritarian ideology. In the name of instituting universal equality, one of the first acts of the regime was to obliterate identity. People were to act as one body, indistinguishable. All visible symbols of culture and religion were immediately criminalized.
It’s considered treason to suggest the existence of a power greater than The Reestablishment; the only entitydeclared worthy of worship is the establishment itself. On the Ark, some have begun erecting altars to Klaus. They’ve developed rites and rituals meant to fully submit themselves before his synthetic intelligence, asking for answers and guidance. On the Ark, Nazeera would be sentenced to death if she were caught trying to resurrect an ancient faith.
“Yes, thank you,” I say quietly, confused. Still, I’m grateful for the head change, and I remember that she asked me a question. “In order to explain the vial, I’d have to start from the beginning—”
“No,” James says sharply. “No more answering questions. You’re in time-out.”
“Jesus, this is ridiculous,” mutters the blue-eyed guy.
“You put her in time-out?” Nazeera says to James, fighting a smile. “Are you serious?”
“What does that mean?” I ask her.
“It means you’re in trouble,” Winston explains to me. He’s bent over, retying his shoelaces, and his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose. He pushes them back up, then straightens to look at me. “It means you have to sit in your cool-down center and think about what you’ve done.”
“What?” I stare at him.
“It’s called a fucking calm-down corner,” says the guy whose name I still don’t know. “And you’re all a bunch of idiots.”
“It sounds like Adam needs a time-out,” says Winston, crossing his arms. “Nazeera, which one is your calm-downcorner? The one with all the dead spiders, or the one with all the dead spiders?”
She flips him off.
“All right, enough,” James says angrily. “Not another word out of any of you until we get to the diner.” He strides toward me as he speaks, clearing the few feet of distance I’d only recently reclaimed. He buttons himself into a denim jacket as he moves, and I recognize the fleece collar, the orange enamel kite pin affixed to the front pocket. I watch, transfixed, as he tugs a navy beanie over his head, the article brightening his eyes, and when he looks at me again I feel winded, like I’ve been knocked off my axis.
“You ready?” James says, towering before me.
It’s like looking up at the sun.
How had I never felt the depth of his presence? How had I not seen the way he moves; the way his clothes fit his body; or the way he smiles, like he knows his face is a weapon?
I thought I had.
I thought I’d been thorough in cataloging his strengths and weaknesses. I thought I’d completed his character assessment for my files; duly noted the broad expanse of his chest; the breathtaking build of him; the way he commands a room. But I’d been observing him through glass, trying to describe rain through a window. I realize only now that I’d never truly feltit, not for more than flashes at a time. I’d never known him likethis, my skin burning with an awareness that refuses to abate, my heart thudding wildly in my chest without end. This—
This isterrifying.
I’m nearly lightheaded as I look away.
“Wait, hold on,” says the other guy, the one Winston called Adam. “How do we know she’s not lying? Why are we just assuming she’s telling the truth?”
Winston zips up his jacket to his throat. “I don’t know, man,” he says, jamming his hands in his pockets. “but I don’t think she’s lying.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Look at her,” says Nazeera, nodding at me as she buttons her coat. “She’s uncuffed and unrestrained. There’s a screwdriver sitting on the windowsill less than four yards away, and there’s a pair of scissors on the counter in the kitchen, left in plain sight. I put a bunch of things within easy reach around the house to see if she’d take the opportunity to try to kill us—”
“You didwhat?”Adam gapes at her.
“—and instead, she’s standing there quietly, wearing my coat, asking to be sent home.”
Winston laughs out loud.
My eyes widen.
Adam looks horrified. “Why would you invite me over when you knew there was a chance she might murder me?”
“I’d never let her murder you,” Nazeera says, looking offended. “I just wanted to see if she’d try.”
