“What is it, Olivia?” asked Lauren. She spoke sharply in a tone that suggested she still reigned superior over the other girl.
Olivia’s whiskey-brown eyes peered through the window. “You never call me that.”
“Well, I thought we were friends before,” Lauren replied curtly. “Excuse me if our casual camaraderie has been interrupted by the fact that you willingly took me down at the command of Logan Wickes.”
“It was the Morrigan who made the call,” countered Olivia, but she was unable to hold Lauren’s hostile gaze.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Raptors that put too much of their faith in the Morrigan usually end up dead.”
“I—”
Lauren turned away from the window and rested her back against the door, her patience with Olivia already wearing thin. “Forget it. You can report to the Morrigan that I’m still trapped in her little jail cell, patiently awaiting her verdict. That is what you came down here for, right? To make sure I didn’t cleverly worm my way out of here?”
“I’m sure if you just explain what you were doing with that Costello girl—”
Lauren blew her long hair out of her eyes, sliding down the door until she came to rest on the floor. “‘That Costello girl’ is one of the smartest and most deserving people I’ve ever met,” she called out to Olivia. “And my family ruined her life. I owe her. But this is about more than just Nicole Costello. It’s about the lack of humanity amongst our members. The Raptors have become self-serving and bloodthirsty, which really isn’t new information, but the fact remains that most of the society finds it perfectly acceptable to commit murder in order to get their way.”
Olivia’s voice floated back to Lauren from the gap between the door and the floor. “I never thought it was okay to kill anyone.”
“And yet, by kidnapping me and delivering me to my aunt, you endorsed her methods anyway,” said Lauren.
A soft thud echoed from the opposite side of the door, as if Olivia had rested her forehead against it. “I’m sorry.”
There were a few moments of silence, and Lauren wondered if Olivia had already left her again. Then she heard the other girl take a deep breath from the opposite side of the door.
Lauren sighed, chipping dark red nail polish off of her index finger. “Olivia, do you remember that night last semester ago when we snuck into my aunt’s office after dark and stole a bottle of whiskey? We drank two-thirds of it out by the lake. It was right after finals week.”
“I remember.”
“I don’t know if it was the alcohol or the darkness, but that night was the first time you’d ever really shared anything deeply personal with me,” Lauren went on. “You thanked me, and when I asked why, you told me it was because it was the first night in a long time that you hadn’t felt alone. And I promised you that if you ever felt lonely, you could always come get me.”
There was a muted sniffle from the corridor, but Olivia didn’t say anything.
“I thought our relationship extended beyond the Raptors,” admitted Lauren, the hitch in her breath surprising her. “We were teammates. Friends. How could you do this to me? Is your place in the society so crucial to your existence that you would betray the only person you ever confided in?”
“That’s not why—Lauren, if I could get you out, I would.”
Lauren stood up again, glaring out the window once more. “Do it then,” she challenged Olivia. “Get me out.”
Lauren’s pulse sped up as she watched Olivia’s hand drift almost involuntarily toward the chair wedged beneath the doorknob, but just as quickly, Olivia withdrew.
“I can’t,” she said. “Not yet.”
Somewhere down the corridor, a door slammed shut. Olivia flinched, looking away from Lauren.
“Don’t tell anyone I came to see you,” she ordered and then rushed off.
“Wait—Ollie!”
But it was too late. Olivia had already disappeared from view.
27
I lingered in the cab of Henry’s truck. My mother stood expectantly on the porch, still smiling as Wes presented his hands for the border collie to inspect. My hands shook as I finally pushed open the door, and Wes, realizing my anxiety, sidestepped the collie to meet me.
“You okay?” he murmured, taking me around the waist to help me hop down from the lifted truck.
I gripped his fingers in mine. “That remains to be seen. Shall we?”
Together, we approached the porch. Henry had already reached my mother, greeting her with a tight hug and several sweet kisses, but she ducked around him to address us.
“Who do we have here?” she asked kindly.
As I squinted up at her, the sun shining directly into my face, her mouth dropped open. She took a hasty step backward, toward the front door of the farmhouse, and clasped one hand over her heart.
For the longest moment of my life, we only stared at each other, me on the dry, dusty ground and her on the elevated platform of the porch. Wes and Henry glanced back and forth between us as if we were playing the world’s most boring ping-pong game. When it became clear that neither of us was capable of introducing oneself to the other, Henry stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“Natasha, this is—”
“You look just like him,” she said suddenly, her eyes now combing every inch of my face. “God, it’s uncanny.”
I ducked my head, avoiding the scrutiny of her gaze, but Wes nudged me forward. Hesitantly, I climbed the porch steps to join Henry and Natasha. Natasha reached out for me, and for a second, I just stared at her.
“Nicole.”
It was like someone had hit the rewind button on my life. When did memories begin to record everything? I had only been two years old when Natasha had handed me over to my aunt, and yet the vision of
