Page 78 of Devotion

“Boundaries?”

“Limits. To keep people in check so they don’t become intractable or ungovernable.”

From the way he’s articulating, it’s clear he’s repeating words that the president spoke himself.

“What specific limits does he want you to add?”

Gabriel’s mouth tightens and twists for a few seconds before he answers. “He mentioned several things. Some I can work with. They wouldn’t necessarily gut the overall system I’m trying to establish. But… but…”

My heart is racing now with a different kind of fear. I can’t even imagine what change President Vincent wants to make that would create this kind of anguished resistance in Gabriel. He can’t even get it said.

“What is it?” I murmur. “Gabriel, you can tell me.”

“He wants to…” It’s like he’s fighting through a block in his throat. “He wants me to integrate indentured servitude back into the financial system.”

My vision blurs, and my throat tightens as his answer hangs in the air.

I can’t process it.

I can’t understand it.

I can’t even breathe.

I can’tbreathe.

With a strangled sound, I lean over partway, coughing until the air can get through.

“Baby.” Gabriel cups my cheek and raises my head so he can see my face. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” My throat has opened back up, but it feels like I’ve been slammed into a stone wall. Jarred. Aching. “But what are you talking about? He can’t mean to bring back?—”

“He does. He told me so directly. He wants me to smooth it over with the more palatable parts of the plan so people won’t care so much. Won’t focus on it. But he wants to make sure people aren’ttoo free.” He stretches out the words unnaturally. “Too free to cause problems. That’s what he said. He’s bringing indentured servitude back and trying to mask it with the illusion of added benefits.”

“No. No!” I hug my arms to my middle. “No, he can’t!”

“He can, baby. He will. With or without me.”

“But he’s not… No, he’s not like that! I thought he was better than that.” It’s so shocking and so upsetting that I’m almost crying again. I wish I could control myself better than this, but I’ve never been strong like that. “He’s always been better than President Patterson. He… he’s cared about people.”

“No, he hasn’t.” Gabriel picks up one of my hands the way I was holding his earlier. As if he’s trying to help me hold myself together. “What you’ve seen has all been a front. A pretense. He covers it with his charisma and with shallow pleasures he hopes will distract people. But he’s the same sort of dictator that Patterson was. He simply knows how to hide it better.”

I’m choking again. Sobbing. Leaning over with jerky spasms of emotion and pulling my hand away from Gabriel’s so I can cover my face with both of mine.

“I’m so sorry, Jess,” Gabriel murmurs thickly. “I’m so sorry. I know you hoped he was better than that.”

I hear the gentle words, and they mean something to me. But there’s no way for me to stop sobbing. My nose is running, and snot’s smeared all over my face with my tears. Gabriel gets up but comes right back to the bed with a soft handkerchief from the bathroom.

He hands it to me, and I use it to mop up my face.

I’m broken. It feels like I’m broken. But Gabriel still matters to me—more than anything—so with effort, I manage to compose myself enough to speak. To explain. “It’s not just the president.”

“I know.” He’s seated on the bed beside me, still wearing nothing but the towel he tucked back around his waist. “It’s not only him who has disillusioned you. It’s me. Because I’m going to have to do what he wants.”

Another sob rips out of my throat, and it takes a minute for me to swallow it down. I already know what he’s telling me. I was blind before—my entire life—but I’m not anymore. My mind has always worked fast, putting all the pieces together, and I can see everything now.

Everything.

Including the lie to which I’ve devoted my life.

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