“For charity?”
Well, yes. Wasn’t that what it was? Asking didn’t change the nature of the favor. Besides, Meridian wasn’t like Kasey. She was vocal about her opinions and needs.
But when would Kasey ever learn that humans were complex and full of contradictions?
“I always do things for you without being asked!” said Meridian, and Kasey was stunned to hear her resentment. “Meanwhile, you? You ignored all of my messages in the last week.” It wasn’t personal; David could have messaged to say he was moving to the moon and Kasey would have ignored him, too. “Next thing I know, you’re friends with him.” Meridian jabbed a finger in Actinium’s direction. “Where was he when no one wanted to sit with you?” On stratum-22, but that wasn’t the answer Meridian wanted, nor was it the answer Kasey wanted to give: She hadn’t needed anyone.
Meridian breathed hard, then went on. “You know what he is? The privileged-as-hell kind. The kind who takes off his antiskin and hands it to a medic because he’s oh-so-heroic, who probably travels outside for an immersive experience.”
The privileged-as-hell kind.
Takes off their antiskin.
Travels outside for an immersive experience.
“What can you tell him but not me?” Meridian asked, and Kasey thought she might actually be sick, especially when Actinium joined in.
“Go on, Mizuhara.” His tone was impossibly sleek and cool, and when Kasey met his eye, she knew she was exactly where he wanted her: cornered. Choose, he was saying to her. Me or her. Justice or complacency. Yourself, or everyone else. “Tell her the truth. Tell her who killed—”
Crack.
Actinium’s hand rose.
Kasey closed hers.
If she squeezed her fingers tightly enough, she could erase the stinging of her right palm. But she couldn’t erase the mark on his face, already reddening.
It was all she could think to do, to stop him. The public could speculate as much as they wanted about Celia’s death, simplify a girl to her name and picture and color her in with their conjectures. But the truth was Celia’s to tell. And Kasey would protect it—protect Celia—no matter the personal cost. She could alienate the world, if she had to.
She could estrange both sides.
“I don’t know who you are anymore,” said Meridian, staring at Kasey. “You’re like … a different person.”
No, Kasey imagined saying. I’m just not who you want me to be. She’d say it to Meridian and Actinium.
She’d walk away from the two of them.
But she wasn’t who she wanted to be, either, and it was Meridian who walked away from her first, then Actinium. They left her alone.
Kasey told herself she preferred it.
||||?||||?||||?||||?||||?||||?||||?||||
LAST NIGHT, I TRIED TO leave the house. The gouges in the door are proof. They’re the first things my eyes focus on once I blink away the sleep, on my feet and standing before the five long streaks of peeled-away varnish, one for each of the throbbing fingers on my right hand. You know what I have fewer than five of?
Days to find Kay.
If I change my mind.
I won’t. I can’t. Not only would it be the end of me, but of Hero, too, I’m guessing, probably also programmed to terminate to satisfy human ethics. And I can’t end Hero, who’s passed out on the couch just one room over. I was too, before I sleepwalked to the door and tried to tear it down. We’re both exhausted—him from fussing over me yesterday, and me from keeping up my devastated I-couldn’t-find-my-sister act. It wasn’t hard. My heart pumped out a steady flow of guilt. But then the dreams came at night, my unconscious mind trying to get me to do Kay’s bidding like it’s designed, and now a bitter taste fills my mouth. I won’t be manipulated like this.
Even if I remember all of our trips to the sea.
Even if I remember how I hurt Kay after Mom’s death.
Even if I remember the day I almost lost her completely.
I rub at my eyes. The nail marks don’t go away.
U-me rolls over to me. Together, we consider the door.
“I tried to break it.”
“Agree.”
How many things have I done that I’m unaware of? Better yet, how many things has Hero done that he’s unaware of? He doesn’t remember trying to kill me. But what if there’s more?
A suspicion worms under my skin. I glance down at U-me. “Hero untied the rope that day on the ridge.”
“Neutral.”
If she was with me, she probably didn’t see.