Page 215 of Damsel in Disguise

A while ago, she accepted my lies without question. Now she refuses the truth because I’ve taught her that the difference between them no longer exists.

She wipes at her eyes with the heel of her hand, only for more tears to replace them.

Ariella doesn’t move when I take one careful step forward.

I stop an arm’s length away. “Do you still trust me?” the question sounds absurd even to my own ears.

She lets out a small, broken laugh. “I don’t know, Alistair.”

The answer is infinitely worse than hatred.

“I want to,” the answer trembles free. “I think I want to, but… but I don’t know who you are anymore.”

Tears escape before she can stop them.

I reach up and brush it gently from her cheek.

The gesture surprises both of us.

I should step away, or maybe she should—perhaps slap me if she wants to, and I wouldn’t stop.

She does neither.

Instead, we remain exactly as we are, carrying the impossible weight of every decision that led us here.

A discreet knock interrupts the silence.

The side door opens, and one of the senior laboratory attendants enters.

Dr. Evelyn Shaw has worked under my direction for years and possesses the rare quality of asking questions only when they are absolutely necessary.

Her eyes move from Ariella to me. “The chamber is ready, Sir.”

She turns her attention to arranging equipment at the far end of the laboratory.

Ariella follows the movement with frightened eyes. “What chamber?”

I cannot make myself answer.

“I need a little more time,” I say to Dr. Shaw.

I tell myself that delay is a strategy.

That patience will save her.

That somewhere beyond these walls, someone is already coming.

She studies me for a moment before inclining her head. “As you wish,” and leaves.

The laboratory falls silent again.

Ariella remains where she is, arms wrapped around her body, and falls back leaning against the workbench as though it’s the only static thing left in the world.

The difficulty with lies is that a man repeats them often enough that eventually he begins to depend on those lies. And that’s how I find myself hoping that one of mine is true.

For one impossible moment, I allow myself to believe that the delay will be enough.

Then the hidden door behind the eastern shelving unlocks soundlessly.