She studies me in silence, then blows out a sharp breath. “Fine, set it up and I’ll be there.”
As I pull out my phone, she continues. “But if this goes wrong, we don’t get a second chance. You’ll have to choose either him or us.”
My chest tightens at the ultimatum. I know why she does it. We are over a large number of rebellion members in our district alone, but I can’t help how my heart holds onto Ryven. I know he’s different. He has to be.
Chapter 23
Ryven
They agreed to meet. Tonight at 12, meet me at Central Park.
Rory messages me.
I sigh and look over my shoulder to make sure no one is looking before I message back.
I’ll be there.
I pocket my phone and pull open another folder on my desk. Each folder holds a life—where they work, what they look like, who they love, and why they’ve been markedto die.
Every one of these came from the council. Filtered down through Cedric—and now through me.
I groan at the large stack that looks like it is close to falling over. Why are so many people marked for death? What the hell did all of these people do to deserve the council attacking them?
I look at the reasoning on the first page in my hand.Tried to escape.
That’s all it takes.
One step out of line—and your life is forfeit.
I grab another folder and open that one. Label:Child predator.My stomach turns.
There’s no appeal. No second chance. Once your name is in a folder, you’re already dead.
Why the hell do we have so many child predators in this fucking district? It's like living under the cult's thumb is not hell enough. People want to make other people’s lives even worse than what they already are.
I put that folder off to the side for my own personal stack and start to divvy out the next folders in the stack.
Hours of going through each folder lead to determining who actually deserves to die and who doesn’t. If I didn’t see the harm in what they had done to warrant death, I made a special area for them. Child predators went into my personal stack, and the rest I made piles for each of our other members to carry out.
“You got my orders ready?” Westley asks, barging into my office.
I roll my eyes and point to the stack closest to the edge. “Those are yours there.”
He nods and grabs the stack of five folders. Glancing through the first few, he scoffs at some. “They deserve to die for this?”
But he doesn’t hesitate. He never does.
I shrug. “This is what the council wants. We have to give them something.” If we don’t, they’ll notice, and I can’t afford their eyes on me right now. Not with how closely they’ve been paying attention lately.
“Fine. I’ll start tonight,” he grumbles, heading for the door.
I can’t trust him with what I’m doing tonight, even if it would be nice to have a friend with me on the inside. He is too loyal to the cause. He follows blindly like we’re supposed to.
After the others come into the office and get piles, I gather mine and head for the door. Just as I am about to walk through it, I grab my mask from the hook hanging on the back of the door. I put my items in the back seat of my truck and open the driver’s door.
Cedric comes barreling down the stairs after me. “Wait!”
I close my door and meet him halfway. “What is it?”
