KADEHer answer was the justification he needed. She cared for him, and as long as he took care of her, she was loyal to a fault. She would do anything he asked; of that, he was certain. He couldn't say the same about many other people in Freeport, and if he wanted to climb the ranks, if he took over the family, he needed loyal people around him. "We made a deal, Unfortunate, that night on the balcony. You remember," he said to Nine, ignoring the drop of blood rolling down her throat. She opened her eyes, and he saw her resignation. It was the same look she had in her eyes in Michael's recording. Vincent ambushed her in the communal Unfortunate bathhouse. She did the only thing she could do; get through it, and it'd be over soon. Nine gave her head a minute shake, but it was unavoidable. Michael would die tonight. The knife tucked into the waistband of the back of his pants dug into his flesh, and he welcomed it. Since he was a boy, he made a habit of sleeping with a knife, and a g
NINEKade deals with Michael's body alone, and I stay on the lounge, staring at the fire, watching the flames as they dance. Every second he takes is torture. I don't know if he's okay or if he's been caught. I don't know if the shock of it all is too much for him to bear. I said I would help him. I should be out there with him. Exhaling, I throw off the fleece blanket and swing my legs off the edge of the lounge. I sit up, wincing at the pain radiating down my neck and glance over my shoulder to the bed. I can't help him carry Michael's body, but I can help him clean. I can get the room ready for when he returns. I lift off the couch, unsteady on my feet, and walk to the bathroom. I go through the cupboards, looking for anything that cleans blood splatter and leaves no trace, but there's nothing besides hair soaps and razor blades. I leave the basin and enter the linen closet behind the bathroom door. I pick out a new fitted sheet and duvet and place them on the lounge. Then, I mak
KADEHe stuck to the cover of dense shrubbery and the long shadows it cast. His hands felt light without the weight of his father's body in them. His muscles trembled, and his thighs vibrated. The air was loaded with chaos, with the promise of much-needed rain, so he marched as quickly as possible, hoping to beat it. The walk back from the incinerator was much quicker than the walk to it. The scents of burning flesh and fabric still hung in his nose but lessened every second he spent in the fresh air. The incinerator was a big hike. Every major family had one of their own at the back of their property line. They burned trash, yard clippings, and the occasional Unfortunate. Lucky for him, it was trash day, so the incinerator was turned on at midnight to heat up for the day ahead. Michael's body didn't disintegrate immediately. It wasn't hot enough for that. It was a slow burn. Like hellfire, it slowly consumed the fabric, then Michael's flesh, then his bones. Kade ran his hands ove
NINE The rest of the night goes smoothly. When Thirteen comes out of the shower, I tend to her wounds as best I can without formal training, and she doesn't say a word to me. Kade glowers from the bar with every thank you she withholds, but she hates me, and I understand why she does. I accept it. Compared to her, I live a privileged life. I am protected in my ivory tower, away from the Fortunates who lurk in the shadows, waiting to hurt me. I'd hate me too. Once Kade is satisfied with her wound care, I set her up on the lounge for sleep. I add kindling to the fire to keep it burning, and I tuck myself in on the other lounge. I watch her for a long time before exhaustion takes me out. I don't know if she slept or watched the flames of the fire dance all night, but when I wake, she's gone, and Kade is somewhere by his bar, brewing coffee. The smell of it alone is enough to pick me up. I've always enjoyed the scent. I sit up and swipe at my face. My eyes are heavy as if suddenly fille
When he's made himself presentable, he snatches me by my elbow and pulls me from the room. Moderators are everywhere, lining the halls, clenching rifles in their hands. As we close in on the stairs, I peer over the bannister and see more moderators. They watch the uneasy house Unfortunates as they go about their jobs. "Kade," I whisper, terrified. "Don't say a word," he murmurs. He escorts me through the manor like a prisoner. His grip is tight and punishing, his demeanour different to what it was moments ago when we were enjoying a morning coffee. He rushes me out the front doors and into the bright morning sun. I squint and struggle to keep up with his long, purposeful strides as he ushers us into a breathtaking horse-drawn carriage. From its golden frame to its black woodwork, from its large wheels to the two sleek, black Dutch Draft horses with bright blue binary codes in their eyes, it's perfect. Like the carriage in every princess story I've ever read."You'll have to open the
The council speaks, but their voices fall before reaching my ears. All I can focus on is her, Thirteen, the timid blonde who slept on the mattress beside mine, the girl who fought for the mustard-coloured dress. The Unfortunate I grew up with but never knew."The council will take Kaden Sario's word as fact until Michael Sario says otherwise.""I find it convenient, brother, that Michael is unavailable—""Shut up," Kade snaps under his breath. The moderators leave, and Thirteen lies still on the floor, her breathing laboured, her blonde locks stuck to the blood on her face. "Unfortunate Thirteen, do you recognise the Unfortunate kneeling before us?" Rita asks. Thirteen surveys me with her one good eye. She shudders, then nods. "You spoke to this Unfortunate prior to fleeing from the manor, did you not?"She nods. "Did she aid or encourage your escape?"Thirteen closes her eyes, and her body settles. My heart stops. Is she...?"Unfortunate," Rita probes. Still nothing. I gasp as
I don't want to believe it, but deep down I know it to be true. I gaze at the whip in his hand. It looks nothing like the whips I saw in the unfortunate camp. It lacks metal accents and has no pieces of bone strapped to its delicate tips. Still, it looks like it can do a fair bit of damage. Kade brandishes the whip, lifting it above his shoulder, and brings it down with more power than I imagined him capable of. It snaps against her skin with a crack so loud it hurts my ears. It takes her a second to feel it. Her shrill scream comes a heartbeat later. It gets louder and louder until she catches her lips between her teeth and swallows as much of it as she can.Thirteen. She's supposed to endure thirteen of these lashings? I choke down my own pain in fear of making it worse for her. Selfishly, in fear of making it worse for myself. I look at Kade. If it's something he doesn't want to do, I can't tell by looking at him. The expression on his face gives no indication of how he might be f
KADEHe chased her. His heart pounded a million miles a minute, and his lungs burned, but he kept pushing. The sun bounced off her auburn hair like a beacon. He had to catch her before someone saw her running, but damn, she was fast. Nine sprinted through the bush and manoeuvred around the debris like she'd done this run a million times. Sticks stabbed his ribs and cut at his face, his neck, but he didn't slow. He couldn't slow. In a few minutes, he entered a clearing, and ahead of them was a wide lake. Nine ran toward it like she knew how to swim. She didn't. Freeport was surrounded by lakes. Unfortunates weren't taught how to swim for that very reason. Even so, her feet sank into the mud that lined the lake's edge. She fell into it and kept going, dragging her feet behind her, digging through the sludge like she had a chance. He shouted her name as he closed in on her, but she kept pushing. His shoes sunk into the mud, and he had no intention of going further into the sludge. "A