I don’t know what to believe is the truth. My father and mother loved each other, deeply. I just can’t accept that he would kill her. She was brutally assaulted. Butchered really. The Aedox received an anonymous tip about the incident and that’s how they found my father. I wasn’t allowed to speak with him after the arrest. This is the first time I’m being allowed near him.
The carriage stops and the Aedox escorts me up the steps into the squat building, and down to the family room. I’m the only one in the room, and the door is locked behind me. The monitor takes up almost the entire wall. I sit down on the couch as the display flickers to life, showing a shallow man, too thin for his clothes. I hardly recognize my father, but I know it’s him. He sits alone in a cage in the center of the room. A magistrate seated high above him, propped up like a pedestal.
“Mr. Faulkner,” the magistrate begins, adjusting his robes, “you have been brought here in regards to the death of your wife. The Patrician have already made their ruling as to your fate. This is simply a final hearing.”
I knew justice in Pentras was quick, but not that fast. How can the Patrician decide the verdict without knowing all the evidence? Are they going to question anyone as to my father’s character and the love he had for his wife? Doesn’t that mean anything?
“Mr. Faulkner, it is with great regret that your sentence is death for the murder of your wife.”
The courtroom gasps, and I scream as tears run down my face. I fall to the floor and place my hand on the monitor, trying to touch my father to let him know I’m there.
“Do you have anything to say before your sentence is carried out?”
“Yes. I would like to see my daughter.”
The magistrate thinks it over, finally agreeing. The courtroom is cleared of all spectators. A pair of Aedox escort me from the family room, down the hallway, and through a secret door by the stairs leading to the second floor. The magistrate is the only one in the room when I enter. The Aedox stay by the door. I approach my father with caution. I know he won’t hurt me, but I can’t tolerate seeing him in this state. He stands and grips the bars in front of him when I’m only a few feet away. I run towards him, taking his hands, and leaning my head against the hard metal that encases him.
“Sadie, I need you to listen to me. Don’t believe anything you learn, or what anyone tells you. It’s all lies. Leave the academy, get as far from here as possible. My death is just the beginning of many.”
“Dad, you’re talking crazy,” I mumble through sobs.
“Your mother loved you. I love you. She didn’t die by my hand. You have to believe me. Her death cannot be in vain.”
“Stop, please,” I begin to beg.
He places his hand on the back of my head, pulling me in closer, but it only drives the bars into my skin. “This is your only warning, Sadie. I’ll be dead in a few minutes and then you’ll have no one.”
I yank my head free from him. His eyes are full of terror. I step backwards, not quite understanding his ramblings. The floor beneath the cage opens and he begins to descend. His eyes don’t leave me, not even as he dies below my feet. His screams fill my ears and the floor closes up, cutting his agony mid-scream. The Aedox escort me back to the academy. I lock myself in my room, not ever wanting to come out.
The sirens have been going off for hours. When I look outside, I only see clear skies. It’s been weeks since the last raid, but everyone is still on edge. I hide with my mate and two children in the basement of an old office building. A small window is our only link to the outside world. It’s us, along with five other families, trying to hide from the marauders that have infiltrated Pentras. They began insinuating themselves into our community a few years ago, but no one noticed. I didn’t do what my father had asked of me. I didn’t leave the academy like he wanted. I stayed. I eventually met my mate and had a family. That was so long ago, it feels like another lifetime has passed since then.
My son curls up in my mate’s lap, our daughter in mine. We left our home almost a month ago, leaving everything we owned behind. We had to, or we’d be dead like the others. We’ve heard the marauders talking about realigning society, but that’s only when they get close enough to the building to be overheard. Talk of a “possible realignment” had been going on since before my mother died, but I really didn’t pay attention to it. Now I wish I had.
“How much longer?” an older woman asks, her husband dead beside her.
“Just a few more minutes,” my mate says. “They’ll be gone soon.”
The sirens stop. I hold my breath, waiting for them to sing out again, but an hour passes and silence still reigns. We emerge from our cover, the older woman bidding her husband a farewell, and joining us on our climb to the surface. Nothing in the lobby or café has been disturbed, which means our building wasn’t targeted. The power has been off for a few days, so we have to take the stairs up instead of the lifts. Our family is staying on the twentieth floor. The kids have decided to make forts out of the old cubicles. Each trying to make theirs bigger than the others.
“What do you
