Flawed (Flawed, #1)

There is light laughter.

I think of Carrick, of his build, the extensive training the F.A.B. children endure, and the education. He must be fast and strong. And clever. To have beaten the endless brainwashing he received daily makes him mentally strong, too. Perhaps he is perfect, as she says. Yet everybody in the Guild was so dismissive of him. I want him, I need him. I don’t think I will ever rest for the remainder of my life if I don’t find him again. Art and I talked every day, nonstop. Even when we got home from meeting on the summit, we would talk into the early hours over the phone about nothing and everything. Yet Carrick and I never had one conversation, and I feel we’ve shared more than anyone else I know.

My heart is pounding as I feel like just taking off right there and then on a mission to find him, but Granddad’s elbowing me in the already sore ribs brings me back into the room.

Alpha is at the lectern; she has been speaking, though I haven’t been listening.

I understand now why Granddad has elbowed me. People are staring at me. Alpha is looking at me, pretending as though she can’t see me. “Where is she?” she asks. “Celestine, are you still here?”

My heart pounds.

“Be careful,” Granddad whispers. “I’m not sure, Celestine, I’m not sure.…” He looks around as if looking for an exit.

I nod and stand up. I hear the gasps of surprise, and I am stunned that all these people recognize me. It does not thrill me. All I can think is that all these people know that I’m not perfect. All these people know what I did. They know what I am. There is nowhere for me to hide. I can’t even pretend, not as most people can do when they walk into a room.

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh nervously at the applause. I worked so hard to be perfect, to achieve plaudits, not admiration, but to be normal, not to stand out. My grades were excellent, I had enough friends so that I wasn’t a weirdo, but not too many so that I was popular. I was average. I worked so hard to be so average. But I made a mistake, the worst thing I could do, and in a room full of Flawed, I am celebrated. I’m embarrassed. I think they must be mistaken. I am not who they think I am.

They applaud, an enormous applause that grows and grows. Alpha beckons me up to the stage to her. I shake my head, but those around me urge me. Despite his reservations, Granddad looks proud. He starts to clap, too. They call me to the stage, and I have no choice. As I make my way out of the back row, people start to stand. It spreads as I walk up the center aisle, everybody standing and applauding me. The Whistleblower steps away from the wall, alert, not looking so bored now. His eyes on me make me nervous. I climb the steps to the stage and join Alpha, who is spurring them on to cheer. When I near her, she reaches out and takes my hand. She raises it in the air with her own in triumph. Then, suddenly, the cheers die down, so does the applause, and then everybody takes a seat. The rumble dies down, and soon the room is so quiet, my heart beating wildly from the adrenaline of what has just happened and now from the fear. They all look at me, so many faces, looking for me to say something hopeful, something meaningful, something that they can take home with them. Alpha steps away from me, gives me the stage. I can’t. I shake my head, but they encourage me.

“Say what you feel,” someone in the front row urges.

I try to think of how I feel, but all I feel is that this is wrong. I shouldn’t be here in front of all these people. I am not who they think I am. I helped an old man, and I want to bring Crevan down, but I am no leader. I can’t even say that because of the Whistleblower’s presence. I can’t inspire these men and women before me. The silence continues. I can hear my breath through the microphone. I take a step back, look down at my shoes. I have nothing to say. I look back at Alpha; I have to get off this stage. She looks a little angry, not the face I wanted to see. I was hoping for comfort. I’m not getting it from her. I look down the room to Granddad for his support, for his guidance, but he’s gone. I look around in surprise, trying to find him, locate him among the crowd, but there’s no sign of him.

Confused, I search the room. This feels all wrong. Warning bells are ringing. This is not me. Pia Wang, Lisa Life, Alpha Dockery, and Enya Sleepwell can take their mandates and their causes and forget me. I’m not who they think I am. I turn to look at the Whistleblower, but he, too, is gone.

I know it’s going to happen before it happens. The double doors are pushed open. Lulu stands in the doorway.

“The Whistleblowers are here,” she shouts, panicked.

Then, as the sirens take over, there is no more silence.





FIFTY-EIGHT

ALPHA GRABS ME. I feel her nails dig deep into my skin.

“Come with me,” she says firmly.

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