Laura Nolen - The Fall

Harper Voyager

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Harper Voyager 2018

Copyright © Laura Liddell Nolen 2018

Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Laura Liddell Nolen asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008181482

Ebook Edition © December 2017 ISBN: 9780008113643

Version: 2017-12-11

for Oscar

Others, so far as I can understand, have been taken by him, as well as we; and yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knows, but the God that made the world may cause that Giant Despair may die? or that, at some time or other, he may forget to lock us in?

— The Pilgrim’s Progress

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page The Fall LAURA LIDDELL NOLEN

Copyright Harper Voyager An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by Harper Voyager 2018 Copyright © Laura Liddell Nolen 2018 Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018 Cover images © Shutterstock.com Laura Liddell Nolen asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780008181482 Ebook Edition © December 2017 ISBN: 9780008113643 Version: 2017-12-11

Dedication for Oscar

Epigraph Others, so far as I can understand, have been taken by him, as well as we; and yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knows, but the God that made the world may cause that Giant Despair may die? or that, at some time or other, he may forget to lock us in? — The Pilgrim’s Progress

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Also by Laura Liddell Nolen

About the Author

About the Publisher

The first time I tried to kill Adam, I tasted sugar.

We weren’t alone. We never were. A tightly-wound shadow flinched behind my left shoulder every time I moved my arm, threatening to make itself fully known, but I couldn’t give it a name, so I ignored it, even though it made my ribs shake and my fingers cold.

Adam rolled a chair from behind the desk, remaining seated, and I could only stare. Clean brown hair, like he’d combed it twice. Dark eyes on pale skin, like his sister. I blinked. Something was different.

“Chew, Char. Maybe next year, I’ll let you blow the candles out.”

I looked down. A mountain of pink icing covered the plate in my lap. A cake stood between us, tall and bright, and missing two slices. The world was obscured behind a thick pane of hazy glass, with only Adam in focus.

So I stared at him instead, trying to figure out where I was, and why.

We were in a control room, I decided, judging by all the shiny panels, and it was someone’s birthday. My good arm, as I thought of it, held a fork. My wrist on my good arm had light bruises, like I’d been yanking it against a handcuff.

My bad arm had no bruises. But then, it had no wrist, either, since it ended below the elbow. At least they couldn’t cuff it. I frowned. That wasn’t much of a silver lining.

I was pretty sure I’d been here before. I knew, for instance, that this wasn’t the first birthday I’d celebrated with Adam, that the door was behind me, and that I didn’t care about anything on the console to my immediate right.

Or maybe I’d just figured that out a moment ago. I couldn’t tell.

The twitchy shadow-person stepped around to see why I wasn’t chewing despite having a mouth full of cake, and we squinted at each other as she came briefly into view. She looked to be around thirty, with amber skin and short black hair untouched by streaks of gray. There was a sour tension around her mouth. She didn’t like me.

No, no. That wasn’t it. I wrenched myself around to inspect her again. She stepped away from my line of sight without catching my eye.

She didn’t like Adam, I decided. Me, she didn’t think about at all.

“She’s fine. A little tired, maybe,” she said.

“Let’s wake her up some more,” said Adam.

“Too dangerous, unless you want to cuff her. Remember last time?”

“No cuff. I want her to eat the cake.” He looked disappointed, but returned his attention to me. “Give me that napkin.”

I will not. I want to throw him out an airlock. Why would I—

I extended the napkin toward him, and he snatched it with an appraising glance. “Not feeling too feisty today, huh? I can live with that,” he said. “Long as you behave. Have some more.”

I had an overwhelming urge to stab him. It was related to the story he was telling, but I knew I wasn’t supposed to think about that.

What was I supposed to do? I bit a lip, confounded, and tasted blood. It wasn’t enough to wake me up, so I pressed the tines of the fork into my thigh. The urge to stab grew stronger. I needed to wake up a little more. I had to. I wasn’t sure why, though.

Maybe it would help if I went ahead and stabbed him?

No, no. That wasn’t it. I shook my head, but it didn’t clear.

Maybe I was supposed to eat the cake, and then stab him? Or maybe I should give him another napkin. It was kind of a toss-up, honestly.