It’s closest to Ewan. He freezes. “I’m not allowed to help you. Mom, Dad,” he whines again, absolutely terrified. He looks to Mary May, who is sitting in the corner of the kitchen, observing with her notepad and pen.
My heart hammers in my chest, and I feel like I’ve been punched, as if the air has gone out of me. I have caused such terror on my own baby brother’s face.
“Oh for christsake,” Juniper yells at him, picks up the salt, and bangs it down in front of me. “You’re allowed to pass her the salt.”
They all continue eating in silence.
I watch them, like robots, heads down, shoveling food into their mouths. All except Juniper. I know none of them wants to eat. None apart from Ewan, anyway, but they are, and I know they’re doing it for me. I wish Juniper would. I have a bizarre feeling of wanting to force-feed her that chicken. And then I can’t take it anymore, the anger, the hatred that I’m feeling toward my own sister. It’s not her fault, and yet I’m blaming her.
I stand up. I take my plate and carry it over to the bin, beside where Mary May sits. I press the pedal to open the bin, and I throw the entire plate inside. I hear it smash as it hits the bottom. She doesn’t even flinch. I stick out my finger, ready for her test. I just want to get this over and done with and go back to bed. She pricks my finger, puts a drop of blood on a test strip, and places the strip into a meter that is strapped around her wrist like a watch, which displays my blood results. Instantly, the machine says, “Clear.”
She then puts a contraption on my finger, similar to a pulse oximeter, which is attached by a wire to her wrist sensor, and she asks the question.
“Celestine North, have you followed all Flawed rules today?”
“Yes.” My heart is beating wildly. I know that I have, but what if it says that I haven’t? What if they try to trick me? How truthful are these tests? How can I trust them if they’re controlled by the Guild—they can say I’m lying even if I’m not, and it’s their word against mine.
The watch once again gives a brisk, “Clear,” and she removes the device from my fingertip.
I don’t even look back at my family. I feel too humiliated. I go upstairs. I want to sleep.
Sleep, however, doesn’t come. My painkillers have lessened. I don’t feel as distant anymore, not as groggy, and I long for that feeling to return. I hear Mary May leave, satisfied that I have obeyed the curfew. I sit at the window and look across the road at Art’s house. It’s large and imposing, the largest house on our cul-de-sac. I suppose you could call it a mansion. It is at the head of the street, looking down on everybody. Crevan’s brother developed it, the one who has shares in the soccer club, and they wanted to keep those working in Crevan media on the same street. To control us. Why didn’t I see it before? Bob, Dad, Judge Crevan all together on Earth Day. I thought it was so cozy and fun. Now I know it was all about control. The many windows in Art’s house are all dark. There must not be anybody home. The only life I’ve seen come and go over the past few days is Hilary, their housekeeper. I understand that he can’t visit, that there are too many journalists and photographers outside for him to be able to do that, especially if he is in hiding from his dad, but no real harm could come from visiting me. It’s not illegal. It would be a show of disrespect to his father, but isn’t he doing that anyway? Or failing that, a phone call, a text, or a letter like the one he sent me when I was in the castle would show that he cares, that he’s thinking of me. Just something. Anything.
I wouldn’t think that a visit to the Flawed could be seen as aiding, though I know that one minute in his arms would save me completely. Even though I’d tell anyone who’d listen that I know there’s no hope for me and Art now, deep down, it still makes sense to me. It could still happen. It would just mean his taking a stand against his father once and for all, and it could be me and him against most of the world.
I scroll to his name in my mobile phone and press call. I know what will happen, the same thing that has happened for the last couple of days. It goes straight to voice mail. But I listen to the sound of his voice, jovial and always close to laughter, a cheeky look on his face, and then I hang up.
Downstairs I hear Ewan get a firm talking-to, a going-over of the rules.
I pretend to sleep and feel both Mom and Dad kiss me good night. I hear them go to bed. Talking in low voices and then nothing.
And exactly what I was anticipating happens next. I hear Juniper sneaking out.
THIRTY
I STAND NAKED in front of the mirror, my dressings removed. I hate what I see. My tears fall as my eyes run over the scars on my skin. They have taken away ownership over myself, and they have made me theirs. I want to rip the brandings from my skin. I look away from the mirror. I will never look at myself again. I will never let anyone else see my naked body. Not friends. Not a man. No one.