Gregory Katsoulis - All Rights Reserved - the must read YA dystopian thriller that will have you on the edge of your seat!

Mrs. Harris’s thin lips pressed tight. “Speth,” Mrs. Harris admonished. How was this my fault? I didn’t ask anyone to copy me.

“Stop talking to Speth,” Sam growled. He hopped off the couch and stood up. “Even if she started talking right now, that wouldn’t help anything.”

Oh, Sam, I thought. I wanted him to hear my thoughts. It was a useless hope, but if I could have managed it, I would have told him how sorry I was—not just for what I had done, but for the world we all had to live in.

“I think it would help a great deal if Speth stopped this foolishness. She needs to snap out of it, read that speech and apologize for the confusion she caused.” Mrs. Harris crossed her arms as if this was the last word on the subject, and her frowning puss would be the thing that finally brought me to my senses.

Part of me longed for what she said to be true. Most of me knew it wasn’t, and as if to drive that home, she followed it with the least believable words she could have selected.

“Speth,” she said, blinking her eyes with that particular nervous tick she had when she spoke the following words: “I love you.”

She didn’t love me. She didn’t even pretend it was true. The words made bile creep up my throat. Her budget had a special line item to speak those exact words to each of her charges once each month.

“You don’t have to spend it,” Sam said, arms crossed.

“Sam,” she began.

“Please don’t,” he said. We all hated it. Our parents couldn’t afford to say it, but she got to.

“Well, it seems like a waste,” she said. “It doesn’t roll over.” Her Cuff pinged. Her face turned even more sour when she looked down at it. “Well, I hope you’re happy!”

She turned the Cuff for me to see. The message glowed the angry color of flame.

Your Custodianship for Nancee Mphinyane-Smil has been terminated. Please remit all associated payments dated forward from this time.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked, squinting.

“It means I’ve been removed as Nancee’s Custodian!”

“Why haven’t they removed you as our Custodian?” Sam asked.

“I’m sure you think you are very funny,” Mrs. Harris said. “We’ll see how you like it when Keene Inc. is your guardian.” She turned to Saretha, her only real ally in the room. “Will you please tell Speth that you want her to speak? I will pay for your words.”

Mrs. Harris was more desperate than I’d thought. She never offered to pay for words. I’d hurt her. Each child that left her guardianship was money out of her pocket.

I felt good about that. But I worried about what was going to happen to Nancee now.

“Saretha, Speth should know what you think,” Mrs. Harris offered softly.

Saretha put her hand to her forehead, blocking her eyes, like the room was too bright. She shook her head. It must have been hard for her not to say anything. I knew the effort of silence all too well. Did my mother’s signing of the zippered lips mean as much to her as it had to me?

Mrs. Harris threw up her hands. “I am trying to help! What do you think is going to happen? Do you have any idea of the trouble you are in? Do you realize how bad this looks?”

“For you,” Sam said.

“That’s right,” Mrs. Harris hissed. “For me! I am your Custodian! It looks terrible for you, too—for all of us. You’ve made it look like...” She stopped. I wanted to know what came next, but only because I’m sure that the words she didn’t say were the most important. In lieu of finishing her sentence, I hoped her pause would mean she was finished for the day, but sadly, she was not.

“It is disgraceful,” she went on. “To be frank, Speth, I know exactly why you are doing this. Saretha gets all the attention, and you think this is the way to turn the spotlight on yourself. I am sorry to say it, but behaving in this manner does not make you prettier or more interesting. Quite the opposite, if you ask me.”

It felt like she’d punched me. Is this what she really thought?

“No one ASKED YOU!” Sam roared.

Saretha’s head turned a little, and she eyed me pityingly.

I didn’t care what Mrs. Harris said, but it felt like poison in the room. Did Saretha believe it? I swallowed and turned my face away. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I couldn’t shut her up by staying; I would just be a target for her to shoot at.

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