“Did you ask about her mother?” I ask.
Knox nods. “She said her mother was kind and sweet. That it destroyed her to learn she was working with the rebels. It seemed like she held a bit of resentment towards her.”
“Interesting,” I murmur.
“She did make a strange comment,” Knox says.
“What?”
“Mercy mentioned that she didn’t know how her mother could leave her sister behind,” Knox says. “And when I asked why, she said her mother was always protective of her.”
“Of Haven?” I raise a brow. “Mercy is the one who needs protection, not Haven.”
“That’s what I thought,” Knox says.
It is clear to see that Haven didn’t share the same opinion about their mother as Mercy did, which meant that Haven didn’t blame her for joining the rebels.
“Do you think Haven intends to follow in her mother’s footsteps?” I ask.
“Maybe?” Knox says. “I can see the events of her mother’s death tainting her perception of the regime. I can understand why she would desire revenge.”
“Why would she risk it?” I ask. “She knows the punishment of disloyalty. She has witnessed it first-hand.”
“I’m not sure she cares,” Knox says.
If Haven supports the Resistance, it will reflect poorly on me. I accepted her into my unit, which means I trained her to take us down.
“Ender, if she is guilty of what we think she is, you will have to kill her,” Knox says softly. “You understand that, right?”
“I know how the system works,” I say tightly. “Leave.”
Knox stares at me with a pitying look before the door clicks shut behind him.
The second I’m alone, I sweep my arms across the table, watching everything crumble to the ground. The screen of my monitor shatters, and glass shards lie on the floor.
If she is guilty of what we think she is, you will have to kill her.
Haven will be loyal. Even if I have to force her.
chapter
twenty-seven
Haven
Footsteps sound in the locker room. I spin around to find Ender, standing by the door. Nobody uses this space except for me, and from the looks of it, now Ender.
I’ve been nervous about crossing paths with him ever since that interrogation. Ansel must have told him the times I lied. He has to suspect that my story is not adding up. If he learns the truth, he is going to kill me, as the Commandant of the Forge; it will be his duty to put me down.
I imagine it, the image unfurling in my mind, stretching wide like the sky. Me on my knees, Ender holding his gun to my head. Maybe our story would always unfold like this, cloaked in treachery, layered in mistrust. A deception that burned so deep it left behind scorch marks.
Perhaps it is my fate to follow in my mother’s footsteps.
“This just came in,” Ender says.
He holds the bulletproof vest out for me. I take it from him and silently slide my arms through it to check the fit.
“You are quieter than usual,” he says.
