Think carefully before you answer,Niall warned her.
Sydney shook her head instinctively. She could feel the pressure inher lungs, the perpetual strain tightening even more with her anxiety.Never,she replied.
Sauda narrowed her eyes. At the time, Sydney couldn’t tell that Sauda already knew she was lying, that the woman had noted the subtle signs her body gave off.
The inspectors eventually found her stash—a floorboard under her bed that revealed a compartment filled with items she’d stolen from the building throughout the three months she’d been there so far. Salt and pepper shakers. Forks and knives. Training gloves and paperweights, lightbulbs and boxes of paper clips from the utility closet, pens embedded with blades used during her training sessions, copper wiring stripped from gadgets. The list went on and on. They laid it all out before her feet.
Sydney couldn’t bear to look up into Niall’s face. It didn’t matter, anyway. She could tell from the angle of his posture that he had his arms crossed, that his brows were probably furrowed in disappointment.
When Sauda spoke again, her voice was quiet.I think we both know what this means, Sydney,she said.
Expulsion, of course. They couldn’t have a spy stealing from headquarters. Sydney nodded without a word.
And she had taken it well enough the next day, sitting stone-faced before the two agents as they questioned her extensively about each of the items she’d stolen. After all, she’d expected this. Of course she was unfit for such a classified job, one where people’s lives would be placed in her hands. Of course she’d fail out of recruitment training and be sent back to her small, awful life in her hometown.
At last, Sauda turned to Niall.Verdict?she asked him.
Sydney braced herself, her eyes still downturned. Whatever it was that Niall answered Sauda with, it must have been a look, because Sydney didn’t hear anything.
Sauda cleared her throat. Sydney looked up to see the woman studying her with narrowed eyes, and Sydney tensed, bracing herself for the worst.
Well, Sydney?Sauda asked her.Do you have anything to say?
Sydney swallowed hard. Her eyes went momentarily to Niall. The man crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her. Somehow, the disappointment on his face hurt her more than anything her own father had ever said to her. All she could think about was the way the man had confronted her in the hallway of her old school, how he’d offered her the chance at a new life. How she had thrown it away so carelessly.
I’m sorry,she whispered.I don’t deserve to stay.
Sauda tilted her head.Deserve is an interesting word,she said.It implies worth. And worth is something earned by doing, not by being.
Sydney looked at her.Do you mean…
Your compulsion to steal is a symptom of trauma,Sauda went on.You will study it extensively in your psychology training.She nodded.You’re the smartest recruit we’ve had in years. I know you can learn to control the impulse.
But you need to be honest with us, Sydney,Niall said.You have to try. We can’t help you if we don’t know. Understand?
Sydney searched the man’s face and found kindness under his stern gaze. It was such an unfamiliar expression to her that she didn’t know how to answer. Didn’t understand why he wanted to give her another chance.
So she asked him.Why do you care if I stay?
There appeared in the man’s eyes a sadness so deep that it seemed to hollow right through him. He grunted and looked down.Just don’t like wasting potential,he replied with a shrug.
She could feel the tightness in her lungs, the truth of her condition that would one day catch up to her. She could tell them now; she could be honest about everything.
But the sight of her stolen objects lined up on the table killed the words on her tongue.
So she said, quietly,I understand.
Niall and Sauda exchanged a look.
Then Niall studied her face with those kind eyes.You can stay,he said.
It was the gentle rumble of his voice that did it. Sydney put her face in her hands, felt the dam of her emotions crack, and sobbed like her heart might shatter.
Niall left the room first. After he did, and after she had calmed down, Sauda said to her in a soft voice, “He has a daughter. They don’t talk anymore. That’s all you need to know, and I recommend you not ask questions about it.”
The memory vanished, and Sydney returned to herself, shivering desperately. Her lungs wheezed, a reminder of the secret she still kept from them, that she was still too scared to reveal. Someday, one way or another, it would catch up to her.
Or perhaps she wouldn’t ever have to worry about it. Not if she died today.
