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

“I would say,” Sarah said, carefully, “that I have an appointment to receive Medica treatment in two weeks, assuming I can keep my number up. And if I can’t... well... then I’ll be in the Medica a lot sooner, I suppose.”

“Do you want that?” I blurted out. Grey shot me a warning look, but I plowed forward. “Medica treatment changes you,” I said. “It makes you into someone you aren’t. It improves your number, yes, but at a steep cost. Is that truly what you want?”

I wanted to know her answer—it was important to me. Grey and Roark shared my opinion on Medica treatment, but not everyone did. I suspected it was critical to know her opinion in order to determine who would be best suited to us and what we planned to do. After all, she didn’t know the truth of Scipio, but if she was willing to let the Medica dope her so that she could continue being of service to the Tower, then she wasn’t ready to come with us. It was ultimately her decision to make—just like it was mine, Roark’s, and Grey’s.

Sarah gave me a weary look. “Is this a test?” she asked.

I kept my face serious, but kind. “No.”

She looked at Grey, her expression suspicious. “I lost my husband,” she said. “I have been beaten by my neighbors, cast away by my friends and family. It’s been hell to endure, and the person I’ve become now... I don’t know... I miss my husband, but if I want to avoid the Citadel, I suppose I have to do what Medica says.”

I felt my stomach sink, but was unsurprised by her answer. I looked around at the plants, the disorderly display of life and love that surrounded me, and imagined this place in three weeks. Swept clean, everything tidy and neat, and Sarah with those blank, drugged eyes. A version of her that didn’t feel anything. A version that didn’t miss her husband. Just like I had been a version of myself who alienated my friends and couldn’t even remember what I had done with my family.

I sat back, wondering how I could reach her. After a moment, I exhaled. “My sister died when I was young,” I said, and she looked up at me. “I... I didn’t react well, but I wasn’t in the ranking system then. If I had been, I’m pretty sure my parents would have had to arrest me as well, because I didn’t think Scipio was good. I thought he was responsible.”

“You were a child,” she said, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine before pulling away. “You were in pain. I’m a three—a monster. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

I looked down at the nine on my wrist and smiled ruefully. I forgot, sometimes, what I appeared to be now. But I could almost see the one beneath the nine, red and struggling to get free. But one or nine, it didn’t matter. I was still me: funny, sarcastic, tough, and smart. It might not be enough for Scipio, but it was good enough for Grey, Roark, Zoe, Eric, and my brother. And really, they were the only people whose opinions I cared about.

“Your name is Sarah Thrace,” I said. “You love plants and life, and your passion for your husband drove you to desolation when you lost him. You take beatings without threatening retribution, instead seeking only to make peace. You are kind, and filled with grace and perseverance.” I paused and met her eyes, and even though she had dried them not too long ago, they were now wet again. She balled her hands into shaking fists, staring at me with something between ire and hunger. I didn’t stop talking.

“You are sad,” I said, voice heavy with compassion. “True. But you deserve to be sad. You should be allowed to feel how you feel, without having it ruin your life as well. But we don’t live in a place that accounts for all of that, unfortunately, and they want to take you and make you into something... diminished. If you go to the Medica, that wonderful human will be lost to us forever. But we can help stop that from happening, if you want us to.”

Sarah let out a sharp laugh. “What can you possibly do?” she asked, voice throbbing with bitterness. “A dropped Farmer and a Knight? What power can you have?”

It was Grey who answered her. He looked into her eyes and reached into his pocket. This time, it was a white pill that he drew out, along with an accompanying bottle. Paragon. My brows bunched together as I watched him, and I carefully noted that the blue pill had disappeared. This just added to my mental list of questions for him after we were done here.

“This medicine,” he said, “can help you avoid Medica treatment, if that’s what you want.”

The room fell deadly silent while Sarah stared at the pill and bottle.

“What is it?” she asked carefully.

“It’s a pill that will change your number,” Grey said. “For the better.”

She didn’t reach for the bottle, but stared at it with hot eyes.

“This isn’t legal, is it?” she asked, her eyes darting over to mine, and I shook my head. Lying to her would just insult her intelligence, and she deserved to know what she would be getting into. She licked her lips nervously and looked back at the pills. “What would you want for them?”

I looked at Grey, curious to hear his answer. He leaned in slightly, offering up the bottle and pill. “Nothing now,” he said. “And we would never ask you to hurt anyone or do anything to hurt the Tower.” He hesitated, and leaned forward. “But we might need your expertise eventually, and when that happens, I hope that you’ll be willing to help us. Though we won’t force you to.”

I paused a heartbeat, and then relaxed, relieved at how he was handling this. He wasn’t strong-arming her into helping us, and I was eternally grateful. If he had, I might’ve had something to say about it, but for now, I was just happy that Grey and Roark were more interested in giving people a choice. Yet it was risky. What would they do if someone refused? I made another mental note to ask Grey, and then re-focused on Sarah, feeling the need to add something to what Grey was trying to say.

“You are so much more than a rank,” I added on impulse, and her gaze snapped to me. “You are a person. Let yourself be who you are, Sarah.”

She continued to stare at me, and then her hand darted out and snatched the bottle and pill, pulling them close to her breast. She clutched them there, breathing hard, like someone standing at the edge of a precipice.

“How do I know I can trust you?” she asked.

I smiled at her. This question, at least, was easy.

“Because we’d be in just as much trouble as you for giving them to you. Just like we have to trust that you won’t tell anyone about these pills. Not a soul.”

She bit her lip. Her feet twisted and fidgeted, tapping against the dusty floor. She unclenched her right hand, revealing the single pill.

“Guess I’ll trust you then,” she finally murmured, and then popped it into her mouth.

I watched her as she swallowed, then looked at us with a blank expression.

“Is it, uh...” she said, sweat breaking out across her face. “Is it a fast change? When will I feel it?”

Grey laughed. “You won’t feel it,” he said. “And yes, it’s a fast change. Look at your wrist, Sarah.”