Page 26 of Exiles on Earth
Do I take this chance, risk not only my life but my friend’s lives? It’s a huge responsibility.
Ilia’s blue eyes meet mine, steady, patient. There’s no demand in them, no expectation. Just understanding, like he knows exactly how torn I am. He understands what it’s like to be let down, abandoned, but still have the responsibility of making all these choices.
That decides me.
“Thanks for this.” My voice is steady, but my heart pounds. I hold the chip up between thumb and forefinger so they can all see it. “I understand what you’re trying to say. But this isn’t how I want to build trust between us.”
I step forward, holding it out toward Ilia. His eyes widen as I move closer, his shock catching the light. As I offer the chip back to him, the manacles snap open with a metallic clang, the heavy restraints falling to the concrete at his feet.
His gaze locks on me, his pupils dilating, his entire body rigid. It’s not fear I see in his expression—it’s something close to awe, like I’ve just rewritten the rules of his universe.
The air tightens in my chest, the weight of what I’ve done pressing down on us both. “So don’t fuck this up,” I say, quiet but firm. “See you in the morning. If anyone else approaches the farm, hide. Okay?”
His throat works as he swallows hard, struggling for words. When they finally come, they’re soft, almost reverent. “Okay… El-len.”
I turn away and leave them to it, my fingers trembling as I shove them into my pocket. Maybe that was a mistake, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like a beginning.
The outlines of my battered home rise before me, the jagged edges of the barn a reflection of everything that’s been torn apart.
Somehow, the farm is still standing. Somehow, I am, too. But I can feel the cracks running through me, deep and hidden. They’re not as obvious as the wreckage of the barn, but they’re there, splintering, spreading. I take a shaky breath and keep walking, because if I stop now, I might not move again.
Once the kitchen door clicks shut behind me, with Floss snoring in her basket, Arabella lets out a long, low whistle and grins at me. I pick up the now empty mugs, silent sentinels of the sizable group we’ve had in here. “I still can’t believe what’s happening, but you’re all seeing it too, right?”
“Yes.” Laura drums her nails on the kitchen table, giving nothing away behind her calculating eyes.
“How were they?”
“Quiet.” Nicole frowns, putting away her gauze. “I don’tknow whether it’s shell-shock, but they’re all traumatized from something.”
Nicole is especially empathetic and doesn’t use words like that lightly. “I agree. Ilia tried locking himself to a pole and giving me the key.” The heartbreaking image of the absolute resignation in his eyes churns my stomach. “I think it was smart of us to ask them to rebuild the barn if they’ve got the technology to… but I worry we’re taking advantage of them.”
Arabella twists a red curl. “You said it yourself, you can’t get the money. I think if you don’t take this chance, you might not get another. This has to be fate, Ellen!”
Laura rolls her eyes, but she gives Arabella a fond smile. “It may be fate, but I want to make sure we’re safe. What can we do against aliens?”
“What can the police do against them?” Arabella counters. “But it doesn’t have to be against. Oh, wow, this can be like Planet of the Pirate Prince.”
This time we all groan, and my cheeks flush anew. The hit series about love across the stars is one of Arabella’s favorites, but I’ll admit to listening to a steamy audiobook in the tractor a few times. It also doesn’t escape me that my other two friends are also blushing, looking out in the rain toward the lean-to.
Resting against the sink, I let my heavy head droop, water dripping on the countertop from my soaked plait. Restore the barn? It’s time I confront the truth. It’s a wreck filled with as much potential as holes, an uncertain money pit. Only my overlaid dreams make it worth anything.
I squeeze the water out of my hair with a sigh. “Maybe Arabella’s right, and this is the universe giving me something. Literally.”
“I’m always right,” Arabella asserts, then yawns. “And right now, it’s bedtime.”
Nicole gathers up her bandages and tubes of antiseptic,glancing at the clock. It’s one a.m. “I am not leaving you tonight.”
“Nor me,” Laura says quickly, and Arabella nods fiercely.
“Sleepover time,” I say. Because those dreams aren’t solely mine now. They’re dreams I share with my friends; Arabella’s studio, Laura’s office and Nicole’s practice.
Dreams that can only come true if I keep going.
NINE
ILIA
We stareat the manacles broken open on the floor, energies recharging after the unlock chip was applied. I can’t quite process it, but my crew needs me to take the lead.
