Page 146 of Conform
My eyes were blue and brown. There was no lens in the bathroom. I closed my eyes, sucking in a deep breath.
I had spent my whole life hating my defect. I finally embraced my difference, and now . . . now all I saw was him.Hates her eyes, make her like them.
I walked away from my reflection and headed to the living area, barefoot. Cold tea sat on the table alongside the device Nora had used to read the Press.
I picked it up. Would they already be reporting on the attack? It lit up, but there was no image of the fire. Instead it was an image of Collin dancing with a woman in red at the ball. The woman was smiling at Collin. Her name was Eve, I remembered distantly. The caption read:ILLUM MATE’S EARLY DEPARTURE FROM BALL RAISES QUESTIONS: ARE MINORS BEYOND REFORMING?
I placed the device down. I didn’t want to read anything anyone had to say about me. I had read enough today.
The sky was dark. No clouds floated by, only large plumes of smoke so thick they blocked the stars and moon. In the distance, still burning, was the fire.
Footsteps sounded behind me. “Are the Illum angry?”
“Furious,” Collin confirmed.
I turned toward him. He wore one of his customary black suits, his hair wet but in place once more. His eyes traveled over me. We hadn’t spoken since the ball.
“And you?” I asked. “Are you angry?”
“Are you referring to the attack or the ball?” Collin asked, coming to stand next to me.
We both stared at the flames—our reflections shining back at us. “Both.”
“The ball should be forgotten after this. It wasn’t ideal for you to run off. But then you do not seem to be a fan of ideal scenarios,” Collin said, looking straight ahead.
Memories of Hal in the closet assaulted me. I closed my eyes. “It was stupid of me. I was stupid.”
“Emeline, we are in private. You may rage at me all you’d like.”
I searched for it, that inability to maintain myself around him. I couldn’t find it. Everything felt hollow.
“It won’t happen again,” I told him quietly.
“I am sure that won’t be the case,” Collin said, staring at my reflection.
I couldn’t return his quip—couldn’t fight. I stared at the glowing orange flames in the distance. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would the Reaper cause this much destruction?” I asked. There had to be a better way.
“Desperation has a way of causing things to get out of hand,” Collin said, shifting next to me.
I knew that—too well. “Is the Reaper desperate?”
Collin’s reflection adjusted his sleeves. “Yes. The Illum are figuring him out too quickly.”
“Because of you?” I asked. That was what he had been tasked with figuring out all those days ago.
Collin straightened his jacket, staring at the fire. “Yes, because of me.”
“Will the Illum retaliate?”
“The Illum survive because of their ability to retaliate.”
“More people will die.” It was a statement, not a question. Somewhere underground, when I handed over my innocence, I lost that naïveté as well.
There was no good or bad guy. There were no saviors, just varying shades of morally corrupt people with different lines in the sand.
