Page 60 of Crossed
Dalia knows. Of course she does. Out of anyone in the world, she’s theonlyone who gets me fully.
No matter what happens, I’ll survive. I’ll persevere, the way I always do.
But I worry for Quinten. He’s my whole heart, and if I’m not around to be with him, how can I protect him? Nurture him? Make sure he’s able to thrive and be the fucking phenomenal human I know he is?
“Can’t wait to see how Quinten fares in foster care.”
Emotion chokes my throat, and I slide my hands down from Dalia’s shoulders until they’re gripping her hands, and I squeeze tightly. “If things don’t work out… Promise me you’ll take care of Quin, Dal,” I plead.
She protests, shaking her head, her eyes sorrowful and wide.
“No,” I say sharply. “Promiseme.”
“Amaya…” She trails off, looking to the side. “Ican’t.” I rear back, my eyes growing round as disbelief pours through me.
“I want to,” she rushes out. “But how can I promise something I don’t know I can do? People like us? We don’t have the power here, you know that. And I don’t want you to hate me forever if I’m not able to stop things.”
Her face crumples, and my chest caves in along with it.
I know she’s right. Ihatethat she is, but the odds aren’t in our favor. They’re with the rich. The prosperous. The lucky.
“I’ll already hate myself enough,” she adds, her voice breaking. “But I promise you I’ll try. I’ll fight with everything I am to keep Quin safe and with me.”
She says it like a reassurance, but her earlier words have already branded their truths on me like a tattoo.
We don’t have the power.
But I know someone who does.
Steely determination locks into place like a vault, one agonizing click at a time until my spine is ramrod straight and my salty tears are drying on my cheeks.
I sniff, nodding as my tongue runs over the front of my teeth. “Everything will be okay, Dalia.”
Dalia’s head cocks, and she wipes beneath her eyes with the back of her hand. “Wh- what?”
Jumping out of bed, I run my palms down my crumpled clothes, resignation thrumming in my veins.
I know what I have to do.
“You said it yourself. We don’t have any power.” My jaw sets. “So I’m going to someone who does.”
* * *
Sellingmy soul feels different than I thought it would.
I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe despair. For depression to sink its devastating claws in and pin me down. But instead, there’s…nothing.
No pain left from Father Cade turning out to be a complete toxic waste.
No fear of what will happen to Quinten if I don’t get to stick around.
Just a smooth, clear path for me to walk down. Shiny, fortified, bulletproof glass. My hands aren’t even shaking as I sit patiently in the waiting room of Errien Enterprises, Parker’s personal assistant sneering at me as she click- clacks on her computer.
“Amaya, what a lovely surprise,” Parker says, his voice sounding muffled, like my head is underwater.
I stand up and force a smile so wide it strains the muscles in my cheeks, and when he moves close enough, I lean in, pressing a chaste kiss on his cheek and lingering.
It makes me want to vomit.
