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Authors: Chanda Stafford

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BOOK: Imposter
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I Was There

Mira

 

“What were you thinking?” Ellie wrings her hands as she paces my room, her angry footsteps muffled only slightly by the soft carpeting. “That was the stupidest thing you could have done.”

Heat creeps up my neck. Her outburst embarrasses me even though I deserve it. “I wanted to do something. Besides, they asked for me specifically to come out there.”

She spins around as she reaches the far wall. “They wanted to kill you. You saw what that boy did. How on Earth did you think it would end any differently? Seriously, Soc. Of all the stupid things you could have done, this tops the list.”

The need to defend myself rises sure and swift inside me. “I was just trying to be a part of this rebellion. They need a leader, and I can do that for them. I can help them.”

“By getting yourself killed? You saw what that boy was going to do. How would that really help your cause?”

I throw my hands up in the air. “What should I have done, then?”

She scowls at me. “Nothing. You should have just ignored them and stayed in your room.”

All of my bravado leaves me in a helpless rush. “I’m sorry.”

A humorless smile stretches her lips. “Sorry won’t keep you alive.”

I duck my head and scuff the ground with one foot like a little kid in trouble. “Would it help if I told you I won’t do that again?”

“That’s probably the best I can expect from you, although it provides little comfort.”

After Eliot leaves a minutes later, I pace the room for a bit, then turn on the AVIS screen. I flip through channels for what seems like forever until finally, without even trying, I fall asleep.

 

 

***

 

I wake up with a start, heart pounding, and scramble from the bed. From his spot at the foot of the bed, Ben snorts and slides to the floor. Stupid nightmares. They’re even worse when I can’t remember what I was dreaming about, only that it terrified me.

“Sorry, boy.” I sigh and fluff up my pillow.
Why can’t I sleep?
This is the best bed I’ve ever slept on, millions of miles better than the one I had at Chesaning farms.
What’s wrong with me?

In the room’s dim light, Ben saunters to the door and stares at it. When I don’t get the hint, he looks back at me and lets out a high-pitched whine.

“Yeah, I don’t want to be here, either.”

He barks and swishes his tail.

“Do you need to go out?”

He barks again.

I tap on the little screen on the wall, turning it on. “Will, are you there?” The screen remains blank. “I need to take Ben out to the garden. Are you there?” The dog whines at my feet, adding urgency to the situation. “Okay, fine.” I snort as Ben scratches at the door and nudges my hand with his nose. “I’ll see if Ellie’s back, but if not I’m going to have to take you to the garden. I’m not letting you make a mess in my room.”

After clipping Ben’s leash to his collar, I slip my shoes on and leave my suite. I knock on Eliot’s door, but there’s no answer there, either. For two people who want me to stay out of trouble, they’re certainly not making themselves available to keep me safe.

I hesitate a few steps from Ellie’s door. Maybe I should just stay inside. If any of those protestors got inside the Smith, I could be in real danger. Ben whines again. He peers up at me with hope in his eyes. “You’ll protect me, right, boy?”

He nudges my hand in response.

The lights power on as we walk down the hall. It’s mostly empty except for a servant here or there who ignore me as I pass.

We get to the garden unscathed, and once inside, I let Ben do his business just past the door on the patch of grass laid down for that purpose. Afterward, we walk down to the stream where little lights embedded in the ground produce enough of a glow to find our way. As soon as I see the artificial moonlight glinting off the rippling waves, I unclip Ben’s leash, and he trots to the shore before wading in. Watching him slowly eases my tension, so I take a seat on a stone bench.

Twisting Ben’s leash in my hands, I watch him sniff the water and lap at the waves as they brush against his face. What I wouldn’t give to be a dog. I wouldn’t have to worry about Will, what he thinks, what he feels, or what he wants. I wouldn’t have to worry about the speech, the men who tried to talk to me in the cafeteria earlier, or being murdered by one of those protesters outside the Smith. I wouldn’t have to worry about fooling everyone except Eliot and making them believe I am Socrates. I could just be me, muddy and splashing in the water without a care in the world.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

I jump a few inches off the bench, my heart lodged firmly in my throat. A young man with blond hair tucked behind his ears stands next to me. He slips his hands into the pockets of a light gray uniform. His eyebrows, coal black, disappear into the fall of white hair framing his face when I don’t respond. I swear I’ve seen him before.

He gestures to the seat next to me. “Mind if I sit down?”

I shrug, and from the corner of my eye, I see the man smile. As Will and Eliot would say, I’m probably doing something stupid again. This guy could be like Damon and have a needle patch full of poison waiting with my name on it.

Ben finally notices the intruder, barks once, and then goes back to rolling around in the stream. Droplets of water fly up in the air and land on the ground around us. Some guard dog he is.

“My name is James Scoffield.”

I study him. After all the subterfuge going on around me, and Will telling me his former friend was a Lifer, I’d be surprised if this is an accidental meeting. Around here, everyone has a hidden agenda. “Is that your real name?”

One side of his mouth quirks up in a lopsided grin. “It’ll do.”

I chuckle. “At least you’re being honest.”

“Are you?” His gaze pierces mine.

I shift uncomfortably on the bench. Does he know? That’s not possible. “Who are you really?”

“I’m a doctor.”

I tilt my head and study his features. “You’re too young to be a doctor.”

“Believe what you want, Mira. But as you know, looks can be deceiving.” My name falls from his lips in an easy whisper lighter than the artificial breeze that flows around us.

The blood drains from my face. “How…”

He smiles, faintly. “I was there.”

“You were?” I rub my temples, trying to remember him, but I can’t.

James leans closer to me and angles his knees toward mine. From his pocket, he pulls out an EG and turns it on. The clear bubble expands around us. In the back of my mind, I hear Ellie telling me that these were standard issue for Firsts. Why does James have one?

“I was Socrates’s personal care physician for the Exchange.”

I frown. “I don’t remember seeing you there.”

“You weren’t supposed to.” He cracks a smile. “I’m pretty good at being invisible when necessary. It comes in handy with my line of work.”

I cock my head. “Why would a doctor need to be invisible?”

“I thought you didn’t believe that I was a doctor?”

“I don’t. Who are you really?”

James’ eyes crinkle at the corners. “I am many things.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and turn away, focusing on Ben still splashing in the stream. “I don’t have time for this.”

He inclines his head. “My apologies. Where I’m from, talking around the subject is a matter of life and death.”

From the corner of my eye, I study him. He doesn’t appear dangerous, but around here, who knows what people’s motivations really are. “So that means you’re a Lifer?” My voice grows louder, and James glances around us. I snap my mouth shut. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right. You’re new at this.”

“And you’re not? You can’t be much older than I am.”

“Sometimes age is not measured in years but experience.”

“Whatever.” I stand up. “I should probably go.” I slap my hand to my thigh to get Ben’s attention. The rangy mutt ignores me.
Stupid dog
. I snap my fingers at him. Ben sighs, shakes himself, and slowly walks toward me.

James touches my arm. “Wait, please. There’s more to explain. It wasn’t easy orchestrating this meeting.”

I sit back down. “You couldn’t know that I was going to randomly decide to take a walk in the middle of the night.”

Even though he smiles at me, his eyes are pinched at the corners, revealing his anxiety. “Then I guess I’m lucky.”

I snort. “Sure, okay. I’m listening.”

“To put it bluntly, Socrates wanted all of this to happen. He chose you initially for your intended purpose, but somewhere along the way, he changed his mind. He saw you not only as a vessel but also as a potential heir. He saw what you could become and that you wouldn’t let your past or your people’s past define you.”

“He chose me for this?” My voice comes out much smaller than I intended.

“Yes. He wouldn’t have kept you if he didn’t think you could do it.”

“But I’m not anything special. There are far better people out there than me.”

A smile lights up James’ face. “That may be, but Socrates picked you. He wanted your spirit to persevere. I think he realized that he couldn’t do this thing, that this new fight was far bigger than he, so he chose the next best person.”

“Right.” I laugh. “The next best person would be Eliot.”

“But they won’t listen to her. She’s just another First who decided to live out the rest of her natural life and opt out of the program. You’re recent, living proof of the procedure’s success. You still look like that farm girl who was ripped from her home, almost abducted by rebels, and chose to give her life so that her people might have a chance at freedom. They won’t see Socrates; they’ll see Mira. But because they believe you’re Socrates, they’ll listen to you.”

I stare down at my hands. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You have to, I’m afraid.” Sympathy deepens the faint creases on his face.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

James lifts one shoulder and drops it. “George Eliot and some of the others may not agree with me, but I believe you deserve to know everything that’s going on.”

“Wait. Eliot doesn’t want me to know?”

He shakes his head. “It’s complicated. She doesn’t want to stress you out this close to your speech. She believes anything that isn’t life threatening can wait until afterward.”

I study his face closely. “But you don’t agree with her?”

“I believe one has a right to know what’s at stake when she’s about to change the world.”

“You make my speech sound so important. Eliot just kind of brushes it off for the most part.”

“That’s because she doesn’t want to worry you.”

I sigh and close my eyes. “Things are so complicated now.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not going to change any time soon, either. The world as you knew it, the future you thought you were going to have is gone now and it isn’t coming back.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.”

He stands up and offers me his arm. “Here, it’s getting late. Let me walk you back to your room. Will is correct about one thing: There are monsters here no one should face alone.”

Trust Me

Will

 

I scrub my palms across my face and scrunch my eyes shut. Even the stars that burst behind my eyelids do nothing to distract me. Instead, the bright shapes morph into Mira’s face, only it’s not really her; it’s Socrates. His face blends into Mira’s. He’s the one who answered when Damon and the other protestors called him out. Mira would never have done that. Socrates did. Why? No matter how long or how loud we scream, no one has ever responded before. A grudging respect rises in my chest. Speaking out took guts, even though it almost got him killed.

I twist the rumpled sheets in my hands. Next to me, Evie lies on her back, snoring softly. As I slip out of bed, she makes a quiet, sleepy sound and rolls over on her side toward me.

“Is something wrong?” She yawns and rubs her stomach.

“No. I just can’t sleep. I’m going for a walk.”

“I’ll come with you.” She starts to swing her legs over the side of the bed, but I touch her knee to stop her.

“That’s all right. Please stay in bed. You need your sleep.”

“Are you sure?” She massages her lower back with one hand and winces. “I just need to use the bathroom and throw some clothes on.” She gestures down at her sheer tank top. “It’ll only take me a minute.”

“It’s fine.” I lift her chin with my fingers and kiss her softly. “I just need to clear my head.”

She caresses the back of my head and presses her forehead against mine. “Is something wrong?”

“No. I just can’t sleep. I think if I move around a little bit, I’ll be able to get some rest. Nothing’s wrong, honest.” Except that I see a dead girl every time I close my eyes.

Evie takes my hands and rests them on her stomach. The baby inside jumps against my touch, and I jerk my hand away.

“It’s okay.” She laughs. “You won’t hurt her.”

“Are…are you sure?” At her nod, I settle my hands on her belly again. The baby kicks at my touch. “That’s incredible.”

She winces. The baby must have kicked her somewhere else. “It’s better when she doesn’t dance all over my bladder, though.” She pushes herself to her feet and disappears into the bathroom.

I shove my legs into pants and tug a long sleeved shirt over my head. “I’ll be back in a little while. Please try to get some sleep.”

Before Evie says another word, I slip a pair of shoes on. As I reach the door, I see a little blinking light on next to my screen, but I ignore it. Whatever it is can wait until I return. As I leave, I close the door quietly, so as not to disturb Evie further. My heart twists. Evie deserves better than me. Our daughter deserves better.

Without even consciously realizing it, I find myself turning the corner down Socrates’s wing. Ahead of me, two human and one smaller shadow stroll toward one of the rooms.

Even in the dim hallway, I recognize James. Men who aren’t Firsts or other dignitaries don’t typically wear long hair around here. It’s just easier to take care of if it’s short. And that’s… Socrates? What’s he doing out here without me? I’m supposed to protect him. I can’t do that if he doesn’t call me. In the back of my mind, I recall the blinking light next to my screen, indicating a message. Frustration fills me. James says something and touches Socrates’s elbow. The First ducks his head and chuckles. I squash the irritation rising up in me.
Get a handle on yourself, Will.

I flatten myself against the wall so they don’t see me and follow them at a discreet distance until they stop at Socrates’s door. After they talk for a few more minutes, James hugs Socrates and pats Ben on the head.

As soon as the door close behind the First, James turns toward me. “You might as well come out, Will. You’re not very adept at hiding.”

I shove my fists into my pockets and stomp up to him. “How’d you know I was there?”

A smile ghosts his lips. “It’s a talent of mine. I always know when I’m being followed.”

My gaze wanders down the hall. It’s dark, but I imagine armed guards waiting around the bend, weapons drawn and at the ready. “What were you doing with Socrates?”

James jerks his head at me, indicating that I should follow, and we start walking down the hall the opposite way we’d come. “Talking.”

I struggle to keep the disbelief from my voice. “Just talking?”

James’ gaze measures mine. “Yes. When I learned he was alone in the Garden, I saw it as an opportunity to…clear the air, so to speak. I hadn’t had the chance to see him since the Exchange and there were things that needed to be said before he gives his speech.”

The ache in my heart tightens into a fist. “Before he killed Mira, you mean.”

“I am sorry for your loss, Will, but Mira did what she thought was right. She put aside what she wanted and focused on what would help your people the most.” His eyes become contemplative before meeting mine again. “She did love you though. You know that, right?”

“I know.” I take a deep breath. “And even though I shouldn’t, I still miss her.”

James is silent for a moment. “Of course you do, but she’d want you to move on, not dwell in the past.”

My mind flashes to that horrible day of the Exchange. Mira lays strapped to the table, trembling and afraid. In those last few seconds of consciousness, she stares at the glass. “She couldn’t see me. I told her I would be there, but the glass was only one way so she couldn’t see out. What if she thought she was alone?” My voice is ragged, so full of pain I hardly recognize it. Trying to gain control of my emotions, I swallow the lump in the base of my throat.

James squeezes my arms. This small comfort is almost my undoing. “She knew, Will. Trust me on that. In her final moments, she knew you were there.”

“How do you know?” I ask, agony lacing my voice.

“Because I was there too, remember?”

BOOK: Imposter
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