To his surprise, I reach out and open the top buttons of his denim shirt. Three buttons it takes me to see the contrast between the color of his neck and the skin hidden below his collar. I see his F brand, only a month old, still new and fresh like mine, healing over, trying to settle, to find its place on his body.
His breathing is heavy; his chest rises up and down; he looks almost nervously from my face to my fingers as they hover above his scar. I press them to his skin and with my forefinger I trace the sign of the F and the curve of the surrounding circle. I feel his heart beating beneath my fingers. It was supposed to be a branding to symbolize his disloyalty to society, to the Guild, for seeking out his parents after thirteen years in an institution that tried to teach the Flaws out of him. He turned his back on the Guild. But his dishonor to them only proves his loyalty to what’s good and right, and proper and honest.
I move my body closer and press my lips to his scar, and I hear him breathe out. I look up to see if I’ve hurt him, but his eyes are closed, and his hand moves to my hair, to my right temple. His thumb rubs my temple. My brand.
For your bad judgment, your right temple. I hear Crevan’s courtroom voice boom as though he’s in the kitchen with us right now.
Carrick lifts my right hand, and I feel his thumb circle my palm.
For stealing from society, you will you branded on your right hand. Whenever you go to shake the hands of any decent people in society, they will know of your theft.
He kisses the palm of my hand, gently.
Then he reaches out, pushes the refrigerator door closed, and we’re plunged into darkness.
“Carrick?” I whisper.
“I didn’t want it to defrost.”
I smirk, then start laughing.
“Let’s go to my cabin,” he whispers.
TWENTY-ONE
“WHERE IS LENNOX?” I ask as we enter the cabin, and I pick up on a distinctively male smell to the room.
Carrick kicks a pile of dirty clothes under the bed and I pretend not to notice.
“Not here.”
I laugh.
His cabin is exactly the same as mine and Mona’s, but messier. He sits down on the double bed. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Should I have played more hard to get?” I tease.
“I mean I can’t believe I found you. I told you at the castle that I’d find you, but it was harder than I thought. You were well guarded. I wanted to meet my parents, of course I did, but now … but now that we have you, we’re moving out of here. It’s finally time to move,” he says, pumped.
“Who’s the ‘we’ you keep referring to?”
“Fergus, Lorcan, Lennox, you, and me. Maybe Mona. I haven’t discussed it with my parents. Bahee has a fit if people can’t agree on what to watch on TV, never mind the Flawed movement.”
“So you, me, Fergus, Lorcan, and Lennox are going to change the world, are we?”
“Not the world. Just the country. And to change the country you only have to change a few minds.”
I stare at him in surprise.
“Celestine.” He takes my hands and pulls me to sit beside him on the bed. “To most people, Crevan seems all powerful. He has control over the Guild, and the Guild has somehow found a way to manipulate the government—probably because they’ve branded most of them and those people now live in fear of the monster they created. Much of the public supports Crevan, but not everyone. You got people listening who never listened before. I always knew you were special. And now, I realize that you have something even more powerful against him.”
The sixth brand. And the footage of it occurring. My chest tightens that I haven’t told him I don’t have it.
“The video will expose Crevan. He’ll lose credibility, he’ll lose his power. You’ll be able to force him to undo the charges against you. You know you can. If he has made a mistake with one Flawed, then perhaps he’s made a mistake with more. It will call the entire thing into question. Then we can all be free. But it’s you who has the key to unlock it.”
“That’s all?” I ask him, terrified by the prospect. “I just make Crevan change his mind?”
“You can do it, Celestine,” he says softly.
“But I’m exhausted, Carrick.” I finally break down. I sit on the bed beside him. “I can’t do it anymore.” And that’s all I can say, because the tears take my words away and the exhaustion sweeps in and takes over.
Carrick removes my hands from where they’re hiding my face and pulls me to him. I rest my head on his chest; his shirt is still open and my tears fall on his scar. He lets me cry for a moment, holding me perfectly still.
“Whenever I think I can’t do something, do you know what I think of?” he asks.
“Raindrops and roses?” I say weepily.
He doesn’t laugh. He’s not really the laughing type. “You.”
I pull away from him, confused.
“What you did on the bus, in the courtroom, and in the chamber,” he says quietly, as we both remember, “was the strongest, bravest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do. You are my inspiration, Celestine. Every time I think I can’t get through this, that there’s no way out, I think of you. There’s no one like you. Courageous, so damn stubborn, and you have all the power now. You’re like Superman to Crevan’s Lex Luthor.”
Despite my fear and sadness I laugh. “That’s a terrible comparison.”
Embarrassed, he says, “I was trying to be serious.”
“Oh.”
“When I was watching you in the chamber I saw awesome power. When I was in there myself, I was terrified. I just thought of you the entire time. I wanted to be brave like you were. I didn’t make a sound, just like you. I’ve told Lorcan, Fergus, and Lennox about you, that you have … something, that they just have to wait and see. Because even though you don’t know it, Celestine, it comes out of you, when you’re least expecting it, when the timing’s right.”
“They’ll be terribly disappointed if you’ve built me up to be Superman.”
“They already believe me. They saw you in action at the supermarket, standing up to that policeman. But they don’t know about the—”
“Shh…” I hold my finger to his lips.
I see a shadow beneath the door.
TWENTY-TWO
CARRICK FOLLOWS MY GAZE. As if sensing our attention on it, the shadow quickly moves. Carrick jumps up and pulls the door open. He charges down the balcony, his boots clattering on the metal.
I lie back on his bed.
He returns, out of breath. “Couldn’t see anyone.”
“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t say it out loud,” I say blankly, staring at the ceiling, feeling everything positive I felt about this place this morning further draining away. Of course Carrick is right: I can’t stay here forever. I miss my parents, Juniper, and Ewan. I miss life. But it’s not just that: This place has layers I didn’t see on arrival last night, and today. Now it doesn’t feel safe.
Carrick finishes checking the corridor and closes the door. “Are you okay?”
“My new happy, peaceful world has been officially deflated. So, no.”
He comes toward me, lies on the bed, above me, on his elbows to take his weight off. He gives me a long kiss. Long, slow, beautiful. Soft despite his strength. Then he pulls away and asks me again. “Now are you okay?”