Flawed (Flawed, #1)

I nod, stunned by this. “Thanks.”


I hurry away from the school, managing to avoid the dwindling press numbers by cutting through the trees. I don’t want to travel on a bus—I think that would attract too much attention—so instead I take a bike from the city’s bike-sharing scheme. There are thirty stations around the city. You take a bike from one station, cycle it to wherever you need to go, and park it at the nearest station. Highland Castle is one of the busiest tourist spots in the city, as well as employing a huge number of people, so it has one of the largest bicycle stations outside. I cycle across Humming Bridge, weaving through the tourists. It’s a struggle to cycle uphill, so I abandon cycling and push it instead up the ironically named High Road. I don’t think there’s such a thing as anybody actually taking the high road to Highland Castle. As I’m locking the bike, I hear the familiar sound of people calling and yelling in the courtyard. It takes me back to my own experience and terrifies me, stopping me in my tracks until I realize it’s not aimed at me. Somebody else is walking to court.

Because that is taking everybody’s attention, nobody notices me. I buy a cap from the tourist shop, making sure not to cover my temple in case I’m caught, and push my way to the front of the crowd. I get there in time to see a man and a woman, holding hands, making the walk from the Clock Tower to the court. The woman is crying uncontrollably, and they are clinging to each other. There are two guards on either side of them, but I don’t recognize the guards at all. This is good. It means I can go to the Clock Tower while the court is in session and speak with Tina. Hopefully, after all I went through, she will give me Carrick’s address.

The gathered crowd is nothing like the scene I had during my trial. I look up at Pia’s filming location, and there she is, live on air sharing her prejudiced thoughts on more innocent victims.

“You’re disgusting!” the woman beside me shouts as the couple passes, and she spits. Her phlegm flies through the air and lands on the woman’s shoe. This makes me flinch, and the woman walking by cries even harder, tucking herself under her partner’s arm even closer.

“Did you see her face?” The woman beside me laughs, as do a few other spectators.

“Should have aimed for her face,” a man says angrily.

“What did they do?” I ask.

“Have you not been reading the news?” she asks, surprised. “They’re all over it.”

I shake my head, and I can tell she enjoys having the opportunity to tell me the story herself, as though her disgust with people is the only thing keeping her going.

“She and her husband took their dying son out of the hospital, without permission, because they didn’t agree with his treatment. Flew him across the world, were on the run for weeks; poor fella could have died. They took him to Spain. To get another treatment.” She rolls her eyes. “Sure, what’s wrong with our hospitals? They just can’t play God like that.”

“But … did the treatment work?” I ask.

“They flew back this morning. The Whistleblowers got them before they even got off the plane. The little boy is back in the hospital. He’s grand. They’re going to let him continue the alternative treatment. The Spanish police interrogated them but let them go. Nothing illegal, apparently, but it’s wrong. That boy could have died getting there.”

I shake my head, and she’s satisfied by my response, but I’m not in agreement with her. I know now that I am totally and utterly against any Guild decision. The woman looks down and sees the F on my sleeve. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops and her face twists in disgust. Before she alerts anyone, I push my way back out of the crowd and hurry to the Clock Tower.

The receptionist greets me.

“I’d like to speak with Tina, the guard,” I tell the receptionist.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” she says.

I take off my cap to reveal my identity. “I know her. I was in custody here two weeks ago. I just wanted to ask her something.”

“I know who you are,” she says politely, unfazed by me, or my sleeve, as she sees it every day, “but Tina no longer works here.”

“Oh.” My heart drops, and I scramble for another plan. “What about Bark?”

“He’s no longer here, either, unfortunately.”

I have a sinking feeling. “What about June?”

She shakes her head.

“Funar?” I ask reluctantly. I don’t expect I’ll get anything out of him, but I have to at least try.

“He is no longer employed here, either.”

“What? Well, um.” I think hard. “There was another security guard. I don’t know his name. Red hair. Um…”

“Tony,” she says quietly. “He no longer works here, either.”

I stare at her in shock, totally speechless.

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