A man that soldiers follow and world leaders bow to.
Not because they’re told to.
Because they want to.
The crowd holds still, eyes flicking uneasily between Carrson and Jackson.
“Well,” Jackson says, stepping closer to me, his gaze on the crowd. “I guess that’s one way to spin it.”
A few uneasy chuckles ripple through the room, but they die quickly. No one’s sure which side they’re supposed to be on.
“Tell me, Carrson,” he adds, gesturing lazily toward the scattered papers at our feet, “when someone studies us from the outside, compiles records, maps, movements, we don’t reward that kind of behavior. Right?” His gaze collides with Carrson’s. “We make examples of it.” Jackson steps into Carrson’s space, using his height to stare down at him. “You’re asking us to ignore the rules of The Order over agirl.”
A girl,he says.
Like I’m not even worth naming. Too small. Unimportant.
My jaw locks as I force myself to stay where I am, to keep my mouth shut even though all I want is to tear him apart.
“That’s not strength.” Jackson shakes his head with disgust. “That’s weakness.”
Carrson doesn’t respond right away. He waits for the shuffling of the crowd to die down.
“You’re right,” he says finally. “She watched. She learned. She found patterns we’ve spent years pretending no one could see.” He chuckles, as if Jackson’s said something funny or, better yet, foolish. “You think that makes her a liability?” A step forward so he’s chest to chest with Jackson. “Because from where I’m standing, it makes her the most capable person in this room.”
A ripple moves through the crowd as they lean into each other, arguing quietly.
“If you’re so quick to call her a threat,” Carrson says, “maybe the problem isn’t what she did,” raising his voice enough to carry. “Maybe it’s that you didn’t see her coming. Or worse,” he adds quietly, “you did, and you couldn’t stop her.”
Carrson straightens, his gaze sweeping the room once more.
“This is what we’ve been raised to value,” he says. “Precision. Adaptation. Control.”
His hand squeezes my shoulder. “She has all three.”
Carrson’s attention returns to Jackson. “If that threatens you…” He draws out the pause. “You should ask yourself why.”
His words make my spine straighten and my shoulders square. Because if he believes in me like that, enough to stand here and say I belong in front of all of them, then what can they really do to me?
I lift my chin, meeting the room head-on.
Let them look.
Chapter forty-one
Slash
Carrson
When things got really bad with my father, I’d disappear.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Dissociate.
That’s the official word for it. I looked it up once, late at night, sitting on the floor of my room, trying to figure out if it happened to everyone or just me.
