I sit down and address the president. “You’re right. She needs to get well. If she needs help,realhelp? What kind of husband would I be to stand in the way? I agree, she should go to the Wellness Center. Maybe she’ll become a great advocate for it… Or maybe she’s now my burden of responsibility for the rest of my life. A wife with a severe mental illness thatyouappointed to me. And yet, I assume you still want me to parade around as if we’re thepremierecouple. To help the elders and the Seven.”
She tilts her head, considering me for a moment. “Ideally.” With a flick of her fingers, she shoves some paperworktoward me that I can’t fucking read. ThatmaskI used to wear to protect myself from humiliation? Now, I put it on with pride.
Because I’m going to use it to my advantage.
“We just need you to sign these to have your wife admitted. Her parents can’t. You’re her guardian now.”
I wave my hand at them and hold still.
“What hesitations are you still having?” she asks.
With a careful lift of my eyes, I search Damon’s face. She looks…nervous. And that makes me happy.
“I need a guarantee that I’ll get through this with my reputation untouched by a marred wife. I’m thinking that there should be a specific position created just for me and future students to be able to influence the POT’s decisions. That I, as…Student Leader Representative, should have the authority to veto future matches. And appoint a committee under me to aid with those decisions.”
Her mouth opens, but I interrupt before she can speak.
“It’ll create more acceptance among the student body to seemeendorsing the POT wholeheartedly. To showcase my marriage asproofof a great concept. Trust in the system and in the elders will increase.” Quietly, I grit out, “It will increase faith in the Seven.”
She relaxes. As much as I’ve ever seen. Shoulders loose, smile bright, and eyes gleaming. “You sure know how to sell something. I chose wisely with you, Mr. Griffin. This is a fantastic idea.”
With a sudden movement, she stands and shoves her hand toward me. “A firm handshake of agreement.”
“I’d like to have a contract drawn up, but, um, would like for one of your men to document it first.”
“Ever the wise one. I like it. I’ll call my secretary Smithy in, and once that’s done, I’ll sign it after we go over it together.”
“Perfect.”
She inhales sharply. “As for you wife? Is she…at home now?”
I nod. “Probably studying. Give it an hour. That’ll be the right time.”
Solemnly, she sniffs. “It’s really for the best.”
I blink slowly and stare out the window at the fading winter sky.
“It really is.”
thirty-nine
I hate being here alone.
Even with the gun in the bedroom. The radio murmuring soft classical to drown out the upstairs neighbors. The dishwasher humming.
I stillhearthings.Or maybe I don’t.Maybe my brain is just…filling the silence.
Footsteps. Possibly a door shutting.
Worse? I senseeyeson me constantly.
With a flick of my gaze to the vent in the far corner, something catches. A glint. I stare too long…and it doesn’t disappear.
Against the lamplight, a reflection where it shouldn’t be. One camera lens. More probably hidden in other spots I haven’t caught yet. I blink and attempt to ignore it. Try to pretend I didn’t see. That Idon’tknow they’re watching me.
I get up for the third time this hour to check out the front window.
No one.
