“You just have to promise me, or else we will all be killed. Do you promise, Adaline?” she asks urgently, her hands squeezing my arms.
I hesitate and look into her icy blue eyes. “I promise,” I choke out in a small, almost inaudible, voice. “So you’ve seen this all happen?” I ask, starting to piece together my mother’s information about our powers.
“Yes, as a Future Holder, I’ve had visions of how our lives play out,” my mother explains.
I glance at the ticks in the wall and ask her, “So what does day 2,436 mean?”
“Today you escape,” my mother whispers. The ringing sound of the metal prison door slamming open makes me jump. I had completely forgotten it was Parting Day. “I love you both so much,” my mother says, tears escaping her eyes.
“Why are you crying?” my voice breaks. I hear cell doors being thrown open as the guards start dragging select prisoners to their executions. An officer appears in front of our cell, and I scream in protest. It can’t be one of us, not now.
“It’s your time Ms. Sagel,” the guard announces before unlocking our cell. My mother stands to go, and Titus begins to scream and sob. They can’t take her. I can’t lose her.
“Mother what do I do now?” I ask between cries. I hope she tells me she was wrong and that I need to use my powers now. I need her to tell me how to use them, and how to save us.
She looks at me very calmly and says, “Hold your brother’s hand, Adaline.” I turn to Titus and see him squeezing the air between his shrieks. I grab his hand tight and he continues to squeeze three times, then a pause, and then three more. I had taught him to do this when he got upset and couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. It was his way of communicating with us.
I look back to my mother who walks out of our cell and the door closes behind her. “Count Adaline,” she instructs. I catch one last glance of her blue eyes and her long brown hair before the guards take her with the other prisoners, and then she’s gone. My mind races trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do now. She isn’t gone. She can’t be gone. “Count Adaline,” her voice reminds me again. I do this every Parting Day. It’s the same every week. From the moment the guards leave with that week’s group of prisoners it’s exactly 1,876 seconds until the guards will drag the dead back through the prison so we know the killings were successful, and then bodies are disposed of.
So I start to count softly and evenly. 1. 2. 3. I now know what my mother had meant when she said I had to wait until the time was right to use my gift. After Parting Day most of the security and help at the castle get the evening off. This will be my best opportunity to escape.
11. 12. 13. Titus continues screaming and squeezing my hand. Three squeezes, then a pause, and then three more. He does this every Parting Day, but today it is so much worse. Parting Day is a way for the King to make room in the prison. Once a week seven or so prisoners are removed and executed in the large coliseum, and everyone in the entire city of Garth, the city I used to live in and the capital of our island, has to watch.
98. 99. 100. Everyone is supposed to attend the killings and is forced to watch us die as a sign to show what happens when the laws are broken. Then, the bodies get brought through the prison to the disposal room to remind us what we have to look forward to.
245. 246. 247. As I count I imagine my mother walking further and further away from us. 451. 452. 453. I have to be strong. I am a Force Lifter. I am a gifted. I can escape and save my brother. 777. 778. 779. Titus has finally quit screaming. He sits quietly beside me while we wait for the dead to be brought to the disposal room.
1,206. 1,207. 1,208. I wonder if she’s gone already. Was she one of the first to go or did they make her wait and watch everyone else die first? I hope it was quick. 1,505. 1,506. 1,507. They’ll start wrapping up now.
1,874. 1,875. 1,876. I stop and the prison seems to balance on a silent beam. Just a beat later and the doors slamming open rings through the concrete tomb. 93 seconds to the disposal room. 1 body. Then 2. 3. I count as they carry the dead, wrapped in dirty white fabric by the cells. 4. 5. 6. There’s a pause, a lag in the line, and then finally my mother’s body is carried by us. Her eyes are closed and her skin is pale. She could just be sleeping. “Mother,” my voice chokes out. I know what Parting Day is, I’ve seen this happen hundreds of times, so why did I let my mother go with them? I had thought it was a plan she had. If she had seen this in the future why would she let herself die?
“Count Adaline,” her distant voice echoes to me. 83. 84. 85. I continue, tears rolling down my cheeks until 93 and the guards have cleared the prison and enter the disposal room. We sit in the cell completely shocked. Titus has begun to cry again, but I don’t feel upset. I feel anger pound through every inch of my body. Anger at the guards that took away my mother, but mostly anger toward myself for letting her die. She told me I had a gift. Why did I do nothing? I glance down to the black diary she
