Page 7 of Privilege

I stand, frozen, while the Guardian cocks her head, waiting patiently.

My legacy is peace, I just swore in the Oath. But right now my legacy is not peace. It’s deception, keeping this all a secret when people’s safety and lives could be put at risk by my silence. My grandmother didn’t die for me to cover up for a bunch of rebels, no matter how old our friendship.

“Amity?” she asks curiously, while I stand there, stuck.

“Zeph,” I say, my voice cracking, low. “And the guard. Rebels.”

Her attention sharpens and she leans forward slightly.

“He switched,” I stumble over the words, “he switched his SafeGuard.”

Now she motions to the seated Officers. They instantly register her concern and stand, their chairs scraping the floor in unison.

The CSOs listen intently as she speaks to them in a low voice. I catch a few words before they move smoothly toward the door on the left, speaking into their SafeGuards, pulling batons off their backs.

There’s no shouting, no noise, only soft commands as the white-clad Officers check the corridor, then move out into the hall.

I’m still standing in front of the Guardian, shocked and worried, my heart refusing to slow down. Then she stands and addresses the room.

“There will be a ten-minute break and then we will resume.”

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop. No one responds to the announcement.

“Amity Bloome,” she says, turning. “You’d better come with me.”

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