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

Gerome paused, tilting his head from side to side in uncertainty.

“I cannot let you speak to him,” he said eventually, and—to my surprise—with a touch of regret. “But I can let you see him again. Maybe that will answer any questions you might have?”



I followed Gerome back to the cell, still unwilling to give up on the plan of getting the pill to Grey. I held my eyes fixed on the end of the gruesome hallway, ignoring the windows with the trays and equipment inside. He opened the door into the cell, and I almost pushed ahead of him through the door to see Grey.

Grey was huddled in the corner, as far away from the door as possible, and had grown even filthier than before in the short time that had passed. Bloody scraps of fabric were wadded up in one corner of the room—from where he had tried to bandage the cut on his chest, I was sure—and I turned to Gerome, unable to even look at the sight.

My words, however, continued to come out flat and disinterested. “Do you ever clean the cells?” I asked. “Or them?”

“That would be a waste of resources on a dead man. Besides, once they are in, they don’t leave until after the button has been pushed.”

My mouth pinched in disdain, but I hid it with a turn of my head. “That seems cruel.”

Gerome gave me a sad look. “Then push the button before it gets worse. Had you done it right away, it wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”

My eyes moved over to the button in question, then slid away in disgust. If I couldn’t figure out how to get Grey the pill, then someone else would kill him—and I’d be dropped from the Knights and quickly be on my way to joining him in death.

“I’m not ready,” I informed him coolly. “I might have been if I could have talked to him, but now I must find another way to come to terms with what I must do.”

The lies were coming easier now, and while I knew that should concern me, I was grateful for it. I just had to be careful.

“Then things will only get worse,” he said with a shrug.

I locked my jaw up tight to keep from replying, and looked back into the cell, studying it. I avoided looking at Grey as much as possible, knowing that seeing him in this condition could break me, and it was hard. My desperate and ill-conceived backup plan of slipping the pill into Grey’s food had died when Gerome talked about not wanting to waste resources. And even if Gerome hadn’t told me, it was painfully obvious that Grey wasn’t being fed. I watched as one hand went to his stomach, a grimace sliding over his face, and felt sick to my own stomach.

“I’ve seen enough,” I announced, turning around quickly.

Gerome didn’t move toward the door.

“Liana, you are making this much harder than it needs to be,” he said.

“Am I?” I asked, giving him a look while ignoring the burn of outrage at his words. “Killing isn’t something that should come naturally, sir, and while I understand that Scipio has decreed this, that doesn’t mean I can immediately perform the task. This is not easy, sir, and I don’t think it should be. Please respect that.”

Gerome just looked at me, his eyes stunned. “This is a shame. I had thought that if I brought you down here you would find the courage to get it over with, but I can see that you’re not ready. We’ve shown you this too soon. Don’t worry. Maybe in a few more months you’ll be ready.”

I started to nod, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his arm move. It caught my attention, and I followed it, realizing quickly and with considerable alarm that he was reaching for the button. My heart stalled while a cold wash of ice shot down my spine, and suddenly I was moving. I didn’t remember crossing the room, or putting myself between him and the button. What I did remember was his wrist in my hand, and the look of utter shock on his face.

“This needs to be done, Liana,” he said, clearly baffled by my intervention. “You’re not ready.”

“You gave me a week,” I informed him. “You promised me a week.”

“I did,” he said, pulling his wrist from my grasp and straightening. “But it’s clear that you—”

“You gave me a week,” I repeated roughly, not offering much in the way of leniency. “To think it over. You need to honor that promise.”

He gave me a long, considering look, and it took me a moment to realize that he was impressed. The realization left me feeling a little hollow. Two weeks ago, I would’ve given my right arm for Gerome’s approval. But now he was a murderer, trying to pressure me into becoming a murderer as well. I hated that he looked impressed because of the behavior I was exhibiting—almost as much as I hated carrying on this fa?ade of being a good soldier.

And I hated seeing Grey in that cell even more, which was what made all of the negativity I was experiencing worth it.

“Very well, Squire,” Gerome said with a nod. “You have six more days to execute him. I hope, for his sake, that you do so sooner rather than later.”

I let any retort I had turn to ash in my mouth as I left, barely managing to make it to the lift and away from Gerome before I started running, putting as much distance between me and the Citadel as possible.



I navigated the halls, bridges, and lifts instinctively. My destination was largely unplanned—I just needed to get away—and somehow, I found myself perched on a portion of the shell that didn’t quite line up with the levels above, creating a narrow, flat ledge that was about three feet deep, and had no railings to prevent the very sharp drop of 156 stories. Zoe, Eric, and I had discovered it after a run-in with a group of Kits—trainees from the Cog department. It was one of the only places you could find complete and utter privacy.

I anchored myself to the wall using my lashes and then massaged my burning thighs, staring out at the three buildings with my eyes on the Citadel, and focusing on the lowermost level, where Grey was sitting in a tiny cell, waiting to die.

I pulled out the small silver pill case and opened it up to stare at the small, circular pill inside, then closed it with a snap and slipped it back into my pocket. I was disappointed I hadn’t been able to get in to see him, but I wasn’t ready to give up. There had to be a way to get the pill to him. Maybe there was an access hatch or something.

It was frustrating knowing that someone was going to die, and having time to do something about it but seeing the only plan I could come up with fail miserably. The irony that bureaucracy and protocols were costing him his life twice over was not lost on me. But that didn’t help me see a way out of this mess.

The sound of grating caught my ears and a familiar voice spoke from behind me. “So are you mad, or are you just having a bad day?”

I turned to confirm Zoe’s presence, and then nodded for her to sit down, still not ready to speak—but grateful that I wasn’t alone.