The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared #1)

They were both still wearing their Knight uniforms. In fact, that was all they ever wore, the commander’s insignia shining on both of their chests, right over the heart. They had other, non-uniform clothing, but they never wore anything except their crimsons or the thin undergarments used for sleeping.

“We have been waiting your entire life for you to step up. Become the child this family needed. This, however…” My father pushed away from the dining room table at which we were all seated and began pacing the tight confines of the space. “A three. Scipio’s grace, we’ll have to send her to the Medica, Holly. I mean, do you want to get kicked out of the Citadel, young lady?”

I kept my face carefully neutral at the question, but even the expectation of pain wasn’t enough to keep my heart from hurting at the sound of it. My father spoke the words as if they hadn’t been on his mind every day for the last month. Like I didn’t suspect that he was excited to finally have the opportunity to “correct” me. It made me feel heartsick and raw.

My mother’s expression twisted. “We know people in the Medica,” she said, turning to me, the Knight fading slightly back into my mother. “You’ll be okay, Liana. We won’t let you fall any farther, I promise. You’re not going to lose your home.”

It was interesting how they only ever made promises when they were promising to do something they wanted anyway, but the fear of losing my home was deeply rooted in my heart: I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I wasn’t suited for anything else.

“I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go to the Medica just yet,” I said, already knowing their response. “Maybe give my rank a chance to bounce back?”

“It’s too late for that,” my father replied. “I’m not letting this get any worse than it has. We’ve tried to be reasonable, really we have, but it is clear that you are incapable of handling these… dissident thoughts.”

The word “dissident” made me think about Grey, his one miraculously changing to a nine, and I nursed the smallest spark of an idea. Maybe if I could present it right, they would hold off on sending me to the Medica.

“Speaking of dissidents, Gerome and I were called in to arrest a one down in Water Treatment today.”

That caught their attention. My mother’s eyebrows lifted.

“A one?” she asked. “I heard the alert go out, but I wasn’t aware he had been apprehended. What was his name again?”

“Grey Farmless,” I said excitedly, leaning closer to her. “We happened upon him in one of the service ways. As soon as he saw us he began to run, and I chased after him, using my lashes. He got into an elevator, and—”

“What a stupid thing for a one to do,” my mother said with a laugh.

My father answered with a knowing chuckle. “Well, there’s a reason they’re ones.”

I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sudden stab of insecurity their comments created, wondering if they would talk about me like that, if I fell even farther.

“Then what happened?” my mother asked.

“Oh. Well, I thought the same as you,” I said, successfully picking up the thread of the story, trying to act like their comments hadn’t bothered me. “That the elevator wouldn’t work—but then, to my surprise, the platform began to move.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, answering my father’s question. “All I know is that it started moving almost immediately. I knew if I didn’t act fast, I’d lose him. So I used my lash and attached it to the bottom of the platform as it traveled upward. You should’ve seen it! As soon as it started to slow, I disconnected the lashes and used the cables to launch myself into the room. He thought he’d lost me, but—”

“Liana,” my mother admonished. “That was dangerous! You could’ve died!”

“I know, Mom,” I said, a pleasant wash of guilt flowing through me, the pleasantness a result of her showing concern for my well-being. “I was careful. Anyway, I caught up with him, and—”

“And you caught him?” my father interrupted. “How? Where?” He glanced at my wrist. “And your number didn’t improve? Liana, you know that it’s not just about what you do; it’s about your dedication to what you are doing.”

I bit my lip. “Well, yes, but that’s not the point. You see, when I saw him the first time, I could’ve sworn his number was a one. But when he showed it to Gerome and me… it was a nine.”

My parents stared at me blankly.

“He was a one,” my mother said flatly. “Ones don’t become nines just like that.”

I made a non-committal gesture, suddenly nervous at the look in her eyes. A look that said she didn’t believe me. “He did,” I said. “You can ask Gerome.”

“So in the end,” my father huffed, “you didn’t actually catch anyone, did you?”

I flushed, my head dropping. I shook my head. “Well, no, but I—”

My father’s long, heavy silence caused me to fall silent. “Oh, child,” he said, and he actually took a step closer. I could smell his breath, spearmint with a hint of metal. “Why would you even bring it up?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense—I swear, his number was a one when we saw him, but it jumped up eight ranks. Is such a thing possible?”

“No,” my father said flatly. “No one has increased their ranking so fast like that before. You must have been mistaken.”

“But I wasn’t,” I insisted, meeting my father’s gaze head on. “Gerome even saw it. He was a nine. I just don’t understand why Scipio would raise him up to a nine, but drop me down to a three? I think there must be something wrong with Scipio—some sort of problem with his—”

My father slapped my cheek, hard—but he’d hit me harder before, when my questions became too dissident for his tastes. I blinked back the shock of tears at the pain that suddenly blossomed on the side of my face and began to throb, as if still radiating ripples from the impact site. I clutched at it and looked at him, at his angry gaze.

“Yours is not to question the will of Scipio,” he snarled. “Yours is to do your work, and do it well. With your two hands you—”

“Mete out justice and bring order to the Tower,” I said, forcing my words out through clenched teeth and aching jaw, knowing he expected me to speak the Knight’s Oath with him, word for word. Always a sign that I had really screwed up. The words were practically ingrained into my brain; I could probably recite it in my sleep at this point. “We shield the Tower from those who would do it harm. We hold the line between order and chaos. We lay down our lives in service to the Tower.”

My father nodded at me approvingly and took a step back. I looked at my mother, and found her eyes hard and gleaming. She agreed with what my father had done. And I’d done even more damage to my standing, in their eyes, with my story. Unfortunately for me, that was how things always seemed to go whenever I tried to talk to my parents. Only this time, it hurt all the more, because now they were willing to kill who I was in order to get a more capable daughter.