My heart races, but I just shrug, pretending to be unbothered.
“The usual way. She disappeared.”
Ender shifts his weight against the wall. Even though Ansel sits as a buffer between us, it feels like we’re the only ones in the room. Our eyes fight a silent battle of wills. He knows somethingis off. He just can’t put his finger on it. As much as I despise him, Ender Vale is a competent soldier and an intelligent leader.
“She was injured,” he says. “Badly. I hit her shoulder. Transporting under trauma is challenging.”
“Guess she was more capable than you thought.”
The room is silent, besides the tap of Ansel’s pen against the screen.
Ender’s jaw ticks. “You raised your fist.”
“Yes.”
“And yet,” Ansel continues, “she somehow vanished before impactwitha fatal wound.”
Ender must have told him the scenario, or maybe Ansel sat in on the other conversations. Either way, he’s been fully briefed on the situation.
I tilt my head.
“Lucky timing.”
Ender pushes off the wall and circles me. My eyes remain fixed on Ansel. I refuse to let him think I am cowering. Even though my pulse races and my heart is about to give up on me. I steel myself to weather their line of questioning. They have no proof about how it all unfolded. Nor can they comprehend how things are not falling in a linear pattern.
I am an anomaly that they don’t understand.
They don’t suspect that I am Gifted, or they would have asked me point-blank.
Ender’s hand falls on my chair, enclosing me on either side. The metal creeks beneath his grip.
“You hesitated,” Ender whispers. “Even if she was strong enough to flee, you gave her an opening.”
“I tried to knock her out so we could bring her in for questioning,” I say. “I miscalculated her speed.”
Ansel watches us like a spectator at a match.
“You understand why this concerns us, Warrick,” Ansel says. “Especially, knowing the history of your mother.”
His words make me wince. Even if he is being polite, there is a spark of coldness in his eyes that makes me shiver.
“I understand you’re looking for someone to blame. They got away, which means the mission failed,” I say sharply. “And I’m convenient. It isn’t the first time the Commandant blamed me for his defeats.”
Ender’s fists clench. He seems annoyed that I am tattling to Ansel, who is of a lower rank than him. It must really grind his gears.
Ansel clears his throat, cutting through the tension.
“You spoke with her,” Ansel says.
My stomach tightens. “Who?”
“The Transporter.”
I let out a short laugh.
“You think I stopped to chat while everyone else was trying not to die?”
“She took two soldiers from Delta, but not you; she could have taken you along when she escaped,” Ansel says. “Also, she warned a rebel to leave you alone. That’s in three separate reports.”
