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Authors: Meredith McCardle
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you’re out. And I’ve already explained what that entails.”
I try to jump out of the chair, but several pairs of strong hands hold me down.
“Why are you doing this to me?” My voice is bordering on wailing. “I did everything right. Everything. I’ve always played by the rules.” My voice cracks. “All I ever wanted was to—”
I cut myself off before I say too much. No one here needs to know about my dad, although chances are they already do. They seem to know everything.
“Was to what?” Alpha says. “Gain clearance levels? What makes you think you can’t do that here?”
And there it is. Alpha knows. I’ve never told anyone my true motives in choosing Peel—the realization I had as soon as I found out what the school really was—not even Abe, but somehow Alpha knows.
His words replay in my mind. I could have clearance. It’s the one thing I’ve wanted since I was seven years old and figured out that asking my mom about my dad was getting nowhere. I could finally— finally —discover what happened to him. Why he died. What his mission was. I wouldn’t have to speculate, to build an explanation in my mind around a sole pair of U.S. Navy dog tags I found hidden deep in a shoe box at the back of my mom’s closet. My mind wouldn’t go back and forth between thinking my dad was a fighter pilot who got shot down in a covert mission in Somalia or a Navy SEAL who was taken hostage and killed in North Korea. I could know the truth.
An image of my mom from this past summer flashes in my mind. It was the week before school began, and she hadn’t left her room in days. I went in to check on her and discovered gashes all over her forearms. Some were scabbed over, but others were fresh. I recoiled in horror—self-harm was a new one for her. Dried blood caked her fingernails, and she twisted her fingers in the air as she looked up at me. Stared at me. Like this was my fault.
Guilt washes over me. Because I left. Left the room. Left the house. Left the state. I couldn’t deal. But maybe I could go back to her if I knew what happened to my dad—and then maybe, just maybe, my mom could get closure and seek out the treatment she so desperately needs.
I hold up my hands in submission, and my teammates behind me slowly walk away.
“I’m sorry,” I say. I don’t know how much of that apology is true, but it’s a start. If it’s going to get me to the truth about my dad, it’s the only start I have.
Alpha sits back down, and the man to his right—Zeta, I think—slowly nods his head, as if he knows something I don’t.
“Violet!” Alpha announces. I hear someone stand up behind me. “Show Iris to her room. I think we’re done for the night.”
Violet is suddenly by my side. “Come on,” she whispers.
I stand, but no one else in the room moves. I follow behind Violet, glancing down the row of chairs as I pass. I’m staring right at Tyler—Blue—but he won’t make eye contact with me. I have to talk to him. Tomorrow, I guess.
We’re back in the too-bright hallway, and I squint and raise my hand to shield my eyes.
“You get used to it,” Violet says as she makes her way to a door all the way down at the opposite end of the corridor.
She punches in a code and opens the door, which leads to a concrete stairwell like you’d find in any hotel or office building. Gray walls, metal railings. We walk up one flight of stairs, where there’s another door ahead. Violet places her hand on a metal scanner outside the room, then enters another code, and the door clicks unlocked.
She opens it to reveal the most gorgeous room I’ve ever seen in my life. There’s plush sage-green carpeting with ivory swirls and a round marble table directly in the middle of the room. The table must be five feet wide, and nearly every inch of it is covered with flowers. All white flowers in a bunch of clear vases. There are roses and lilies and hydrangeas and a number of flowers I’ve never seen before and
I try to jump out of the chair, but several pairs of strong hands hold me down.
“Why are you doing this to me?” My voice is bordering on wailing. “I did everything right. Everything. I’ve always played by the rules.” My voice cracks. “All I ever wanted was to—”
I cut myself off before I say too much. No one here needs to know about my dad, although chances are they already do. They seem to know everything.
“Was to what?” Alpha says. “Gain clearance levels? What makes you think you can’t do that here?”
And there it is. Alpha knows. I’ve never told anyone my true motives in choosing Peel—the realization I had as soon as I found out what the school really was—not even Abe, but somehow Alpha knows.
His words replay in my mind. I could have clearance. It’s the one thing I’ve wanted since I was seven years old and figured out that asking my mom about my dad was getting nowhere. I could finally— finally —discover what happened to him. Why he died. What his mission was. I wouldn’t have to speculate, to build an explanation in my mind around a sole pair of U.S. Navy dog tags I found hidden deep in a shoe box at the back of my mom’s closet. My mind wouldn’t go back and forth between thinking my dad was a fighter pilot who got shot down in a covert mission in Somalia or a Navy SEAL who was taken hostage and killed in North Korea. I could know the truth.
An image of my mom from this past summer flashes in my mind. It was the week before school began, and she hadn’t left her room in days. I went in to check on her and discovered gashes all over her forearms. Some were scabbed over, but others were fresh. I recoiled in horror—self-harm was a new one for her. Dried blood caked her fingernails, and she twisted her fingers in the air as she looked up at me. Stared at me. Like this was my fault.
Guilt washes over me. Because I left. Left the room. Left the house. Left the state. I couldn’t deal. But maybe I could go back to her if I knew what happened to my dad—and then maybe, just maybe, my mom could get closure and seek out the treatment she so desperately needs.
I hold up my hands in submission, and my teammates behind me slowly walk away.
“I’m sorry,” I say. I don’t know how much of that apology is true, but it’s a start. If it’s going to get me to the truth about my dad, it’s the only start I have.
Alpha sits back down, and the man to his right—Zeta, I think—slowly nods his head, as if he knows something I don’t.
“Violet!” Alpha announces. I hear someone stand up behind me. “Show Iris to her room. I think we’re done for the night.”
Violet is suddenly by my side. “Come on,” she whispers.
I stand, but no one else in the room moves. I follow behind Violet, glancing down the row of chairs as I pass. I’m staring right at Tyler—Blue—but he won’t make eye contact with me. I have to talk to him. Tomorrow, I guess.
We’re back in the too-bright hallway, and I squint and raise my hand to shield my eyes.
“You get used to it,” Violet says as she makes her way to a door all the way down at the opposite end of the corridor.
She punches in a code and opens the door, which leads to a concrete stairwell like you’d find in any hotel or office building. Gray walls, metal railings. We walk up one flight of stairs, where there’s another door ahead. Violet places her hand on a metal scanner outside the room, then enters another code, and the door clicks unlocked.
She opens it to reveal the most gorgeous room I’ve ever seen in my life. There’s plush sage-green carpeting with ivory swirls and a round marble table directly in the middle of the room. The table must be five feet wide, and nearly every inch of it is covered with flowers. All white flowers in a bunch of clear vases. There are roses and lilies and hydrangeas and a number of flowers I’ve never seen before and
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