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

“Go.”

Her tone brooked no argument, and I kept my head down as I moved through the kitchen and into the hall beyond, finding Zoe’s room just as the voices began to rise in the living room. They cut off with a pneumatic hiss as the door closed behind me, and then I was in Zoe’s room, all alone.

I considered sitting down, but I was too nervous about the fight that was happening just past the door, and wound up walking around her room, pacing in uncertainty. What if Zoe’s mother punished her and made me go home? I still had no idea what she needed the pipe chart for, nor any idea where the pipe chart was so I could look at it.

Checking her desk anyhow, I found a few pieces of paper covered with scribbles and little diagrams, and studied the pages. Zoe had written in very clean, block print all around them, and there were more than a few mathematic equations, notes on how each machine would function, and statistics on how pieces of machinery could improve Tower life. I stared at the pages for a long moment, trying to make heads or tails of the information, and then put them down, frustrated.

Before today, the only reason Zoe had to be unhappy was that she was still in Water Treatment, and couldn’t transfer to Mechanics. If I hadn’t told her about the Knights, I was certain she would have eventually found her way in, and would have been a ten in a matter of days. Now that she knew, however…

I began wondering how many lives I was going to destroy just by association. First Grey, who had sacrificed his safety for mine by giving me his pills and then gotten caught, and now Zoe, whose ranking had dropped because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Were Eric and Alex next? Could I destroy their rankings with this knowledge?

Maybe they’re already infected with my psychological contamination. I looked at my wrist, queasy, and then lowered my arm, unwilling to look at it any longer.

The door slid open, and I whirled as Zoe stormed into the room, all but punching the door’s button behind her. Her face was red, her hands working angrily at her sides. She rested her back against the door, exhaling slowly and clearly trying to calm herself down. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I felt like it was better not to say anything, rather than pry.

Finally, she looked up at me and frowned. “You haven’t found the pipe chart yet?”

I looked around, baffled, and watched as she approached one of the exposed shelves with books on it and pulled out a thick blue book that was almost as wide as her chest. “This is one of the few complete manuals,” she commented as she sat it down on the desk. “From before we started training people for specific areas around the Tower. It’s been in my father’s family for generations.”

Which meant the heavy volume now on the table was at least two hundred years old. It was impressive, but did nothing to assuage my concern for Zoe. “Zoe, what did your mother say?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s not important and not unexpected,” she said, putting on a pair of white gloves. “And don’t go feeling guilty, Liana. I made you tell me, just like I made the choice to help you.” She carefully flipped open the book and began thumbing through the pages. “You shouldn’t have to face all of this alone,” she added, voice soft.

I couldn’t resist the impulse, and reached out to hug her, feeling incredibly relieved to hear her say that. She leaned against me, but was careful not to touch me with her gloved hands, for fear any dirt from me would get on her father’s book. After a moment, I let her go.

“Thank you,” I said, reaching up to pat the area under my eyes to stop the waterworks that were beginning to start up. I sniffled anyway, and she rested her head on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me.

“We’re going to get this Grey guy out. Now, have you thought about the others and what we’re going to do for them?”

My moment of happiness evaporated under her gaze. I fidgeted and shook my head. “I don’t have access to them,” I said hoarsely. “I couldn’t get access if I tried, I’m guessing. The only one I have access to is Grey, so—”

“So Grey is the only one you can save.” Her face was a sad mask, but she nodded, turning back to the book. “Then we’ll save him and figure out what we can do next.”

She opened the book, and it turned out to be even larger than it had appeared, with pages that unfolded into massive maps, and small, detailed notes and charts on each individual pipe. She flipped through it, page by page, while I hovered over her shoulder, trying to get a peek at what she was looking for. Eventually she got annoyed and ordered me to sit down—which I did, on her bed.

I was too nervous to stay still, though, and wound up spending my time fiddling with things or flipping through books. She said she didn’t want to tell me in case it wasn’t possible, I thought to myself, watching as she studied each map intensely, her gloved hands handling each page as if it were a piece of glass on the verge of shattering.

When she finally said, “Ah, here it is,” I was by her side before she got to the “it.”

“Here what is?” I asked, and then froze when I heard paper ripping. “Zoe!” I cried, appalled to see her destroying something she loved so much. Something her father had given her.

My best friend looked at me, the torn page dangling from her fingertips, and gave me a defiant look. “The book is too heavy,” she said calmly, folding the wide sheet. “And my father always told me that human lives were more valuable than books.”

“He did not,” I shot back, and the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Fine, he never said that per se, but he did say something along those lines.” She slipped the piece of paper into a plastic bag that sealed shut, making it watertight, and then slipped the bag inside her uniform. She handed me the book, which I obediently put back on the shelf.

“Let’s go,” she said over the hiss of the door, and I turned to see her already heading out. I quickly followed.

“Zoe?” Her mother’s voice called from her room as we passed, and I hesitated, but Zoe didn’t, continuing back through the kitchen. I followed her, realizing that her mother had managed to whip together a stew while Zoe was looking for the pipe chart. It was bubbling on the stove, making my stomach growl, but I ignored it as I followed Zoe to the door.

“Zoe.”