The Replaced

She crossed her arms, a small frown pushing her brows together. “What were you expecting?”

 

 

I chose another grape, purple this time. I let the juice, sweeter than the green one, roll over my tongue. Shrugging, I answered, “I don’t know. I guess I thought I’d be grilled, maybe get the whole good-cop, bad-cop routine, while you guys tried to find out what we’re doing here.” I smiled because saying it out loud made it sound kind of absurd. “Maybe a little waterboarding.”

 

She smiled too, and I was bombarded by a sensation of wanting to please her. If she was anything, she was definitely the good cop. “What makes you think I’m not here for information?”

 

I pulled off a corner of the cheese, forcing myself to remember she was one of them—part of the camp holding us captive. “Just so you know, I don’t know anything important.” I wasn’t lying, at least not yet. The computers were Jett’s department, and weapons were Willow’s area of expertise. Simon was so damn secretive that even if there was anything to know, he never would have told me anyway.

 

I glanced at my watch. 12:52. I wished she’d just get to the point. I wanted to be taken to where Simon and Jett and the others had been moved to already.

 

“Why are we being held like this? We didn’t do anything wrong. When can I see my friends?” I met her deep brown eyes and tried to decide if there was anything unusual about them, like Simon’s and Natty’s, and Buzz Cut’s, whose blue was so charged, it practically pulsed. This girl’s cocoa-color eyes were deep and rich, but also very ordinary. Outside, I could hear voices yelling—the sounds of drills being called. I itched to look down at my watch again, but I held firm on the girl, determined not to give her any insight on me.

 

She shifted her weight and I purposely avoided looking at her as she uncrossed her arms. “Let me ask you a question, Kyra.” Hearing her say my name shouldn’t have surprised me. I’m sure they all knew who we were by now, but there was something about the way she said it. Her voice was low and she leaned forward expectantly. “Who is it you belong to? Simon or Thom?” She examined me closely, and that feeling of wanting her to like me vanished. Now I just wanted her to stop staring.

 

Her choice of wording made my skin itch.

 

I might feel a certain amount of loyalty to each of them, for different reasons, but I was my own person. I made my own choices. “I don’t belong to either of them,” I insisted.

 

“Ooh, a loner. I like that.” She got to her feet and stared down at me now. “We could use a girl like you around here.”

 

When she reached down and pushed a piece of my damp hair from my face, I jerked away from her. “Who are you? Where’s Griffin? I think there’s some confusion—we just came here because we needed a place to hide . . .”

 

She folded her arms over her chest. “There’s no confusion. We know why you’re here.”

 

Except I was still confused. “So . . . why hold us prisoner like this? I thought the Returned worked together. . . .”

 

“There are a lot of things you still don’t understand, although I can’t say I’m totally surprised. Simon does that, keeps things to himself; he was always that way. And Thom’s no better—he’s always been a man of few words. Even when they were here, it was hard to know what either of them was thinking.”

 

“So . . . you . . . you knew them?” She had my full attention then. It hadn’t crossed my mind, that she’d been here when they had. That this girl might know things about them, and their pasts, that I didn’t.

 

She sighed, giving me a conciliatory look. “You really have no clue, do you?”

 

There was a sharp rap on the door, and then Buzz Cut stepped inside. The brown-eyed girl was halfway across the room before the door had even swished closed again.

 

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I was riveted by the two of them, by the way they interacted. It was off somehow. Buzz Cut sat tight, just inside the doorway, until she was invited to join the other girl. And when she did, she kept her voice low and her hands at her sides. I couldn’t quite name her demeanor, but she was well-mannered. Quiet.

 

Not at all the way she’d been with me, and almost the exact opposite of the way she’d been with Simon.

 

When she was finished, Buzz Cut waited stiffly for a response, which was also whispered. It made me wish I had super-hearing on top of the whole seeing-in-the-dark thing, because I was dying to know what they were saying.

 

It was okay, though, because I’d figured something out just by watching them, and I felt stupid for not realizing it sooner.

 

I waited until Buzz Cut had shut the door, leaving us alone again. “Oh my god,” I accused. “You’re Griffin. You’re the guy we came here to see.” No wonder she knew so much about Simon and Thom. She was the reason we were here. She was the person they thought would help us.

 

The girl put her hands together once, twice, three times in a long, slow clap as she appraised me, as if seeing me in a whole new light. “And here I was, starting to think you might be on the slow side. Took you long enough.”

 

I ignored the jab, because it wasn’t like she’d given me a lot to work with, what with the whole you-should-eat act, and the You’re safe, trust me thing. How was I supposed to know she was the one in charge of this operation? “What kind of name is Griffin? For a girl, I mean?” I jabbed back.

 

Her expression closed off. “My dad wanted a son. I was something of a disappointment.”

 

It was a sad answer, if it was an honest one, and it made me wonder how old she was, or where she’d been born. The idea of being a letdown simply because of your gender was foreign to me, completely antiquated. I could hardly fathom it.