Cecelia Ahern - Perfect

I look at Art angrily, then back at Crevan. “You must be so proud of your son. He’s just like you now.”

Art looks down at the ground. He’s happy to get away from me now that he knows I know he’s a Whistleblower. He takes a last glance at the two of us, then quickly disappears.

“Ironic, how your misdemeanors did me a favor, bringing my son back to me. We’re closer than ever now,” Crevan says, taking a few steps forward.

The breeze carries a familiar smell of mint. Peppermint. Or an antiseptic smell. I can’t place it. Maybe he’s chewing gum. Perhaps it’s a familiar smell of Crevan from my previous life, when we were friends, almost family.

“He would never have gone into the family business if it weren’t for you betraying him, going on the run, becoming an evader.”

I want to run at him and punch him, kick him, I want to scream so loudly at him, vent all the most disgusting words I can think of, but I know it will have no effect. He is impenetrable. Any emotion or affection he had for me died a long time ago. Now I think he sits for hours thinking of ways he can simply destroy me and the connection his son has with me.

“So you wanted to show Art something.” He enjoys seeing the look on my face. “I assume this is the so-called secret footage. Hand it over.” He tries to act cool, but I can tell that he is nervous. He has searched the width and breadth of the country for two weeks for this.

I smile. “You actually think I’d bring it with me?”

His smile fades.

“I called Art presuming he’d tell you we were meeting. Do you think I didn’t know he was a Whistleblower? Of course I know. But I didn’t think Art would actually keep us meeting from you. That father-son bond isn’t as strong as you think it is,” I say, enjoying hurting him. “I’ve changed a lot since you branded me. I got smarter. Ironic, how you’ve done me a favor, too.”

His face darkens as he realizes that he’s fallen into my plan.

“I’m not here to show Art the footage. I’m here to talk to you. I’m here to tell you that you’ve made a mistake. I think you know that already. You’re trying to cover your steps, but you can’t. The guards, the students, a journalist, a lawyer … don’t you think you’re going a bit too far? Do you think nobody’s going to notice? That nobody will eventually put it all together? You can’t brand everybody, Bosco.”

“You think a piece of video holds that much power?” He laughs.

“I know it does. Because I know what’s on it. I was there, remember? And because you’re going out of your way to find me, hunting me down. You’re panicking. You know you can’t talk yourself out of this one. When people see this footage, they’ll see what an animal you are. A monster who’s out of control, who can’t be trusted with the power he’s been given.”

He swallows, pretending not to be bothered by my words, but I know that he is. Nobody in his life speaks to him like this.

I take a deep breath. “I can make it all go away. I’ll give you the footage if you admit that I’m not Flawed. That what I did on the bus wasn’t wrong. Repent , Crevan,” I say, repeating the word he said to me in the chamber.

He looks surprised. “I’d never do that. If I do that, then every Flawed will demand the same thing.”

“That’s the deal.” I shrug.

He sighs. His shoulders slump, and he pushes one hand in his pocket while the other rubs his face tiredly.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

I’m taken aback by the haste of his agreement—Raphael’s advice worked, but I need to continue while the going is good. “There’s one other person you need to do the same for. Carrick Vane.” Carrick may have lied to me about his involvement with Enya Sleepwell, but it doesn’t change what happened between me and him, what we shared in the castle and what we shared in his cabin last night. He may owe me an apology, but he is the one who believed in me more than anyone, which has led me to this point right now, and I owe him this.

He looks at me and narrows his eyes, and I try to stay strong. A part of me is panicking that I’ve given up Carrick’s name, that I’ve linked us together.

“You give me the footage, all copies , and I’ll do that for you and your friend. But here’s my part of the bargain. You must both leave the country. I don’t want to ever hear from either of you again. If you set one foot back in Humming, then you’ll find yourself in the same situation.”

I’m so shocked that it has worked. Leave the country? No problem. Be free? Yes, please.

“But the deal remains private,” he continues, explaining the terms. “Nobody can know that your verdicts have been reversed. You live in freedom, and the powers that be here will be aware, but the public won’t. We keep this quiet.”

This is exactly what happened with Raphael Angelo’s winning case. Agreeing to not being able to speak about the overturned verdict publicly would mean that I could never truly clear my name and nobody else could use my case to fight for their own freedom. We couldn’t accuse Crevan of being Flawed. Enya Sleepwell couldn’t use me for her campaign, and Flawed rights would suffer. Sanchez wouldn’t be able to remove Crevan from power.

But I’d be free. And so would Carrick.

I think of what Cordelia said to me in Vigor. What kind of leader sacrifices others for their own gain?

“No,” I say shakily. “I can’t agree to that.”

Crevan tuts. “And you were so close, Celestine.”

I’m not alert enough. I’m too lost in the repercussions of the decision I’ve made that I’m slow to react. I thought I was smart, but I’m not smart enough. When he takes his hand from his pocket, he reaches out and sticks a needle in my thigh.

I crumple to the ground.

FORTY-TWO

I WAKE UP in a hospital bed. I’m surrounded by a white curtain, white walls, white ceiling, white bedding, bright strip lighting. I wince against the light. I’m wearing a red gown.

I try to sit up but I’m stuck. My upper body is stiff but it moves, my arms and upper torso will do what they’re told, but from the waist down, absolutely nothing happens. There’s no movement. I’m paralyzed.

Feeling trapped, I start to whimper with the effort. I throw off the covers and try to lift my legs with my hands. They’re heavy and I can move them, but I can’t feel a thing. I thump them, slap them, try to wake them up, force them to obey.

The curtain is pulled back and I jump, startled. Tina appears.

Tina. The guard who was with me during the branding, the guard who disappeared. The guard who I thought had disappeared, along with all the others. She’s wearing her Whistleblower uniform and everything I thought I knew dismantles in my mind. The neat little theory that she had been on my side, that she’d smuggled the footage to me, that Crevan had hidden her away, all disintegrates. She is the enemy.

She holds her finger to her lips conspiratorially.

“He gave you some kind of injection to paralyze you,” she whispers. “They plan to do a skin graft to remove the sixth brand.”

“What?” I hiss.

“Shh,” she says loudly. “Dr. Greene has been brought in by the Guild to carry out the surgery. I’m sorry, Celestine, this is a mess.”

“I thought you were missing. I was actually worried about you.”

She comes closer, takes my hand. “He threatened me and my daughter. I saw what he did to the others. I couldn’t…” Her eyes fill. “I tried to help you as best I could. Did you find the USB I gave you?”

“In the snow globe?” I ask.

She brightens with relief. “Bark added a fake base. I wasn’t sure you’d figure it out, but he thought you would. She’s a clever girl , he said.” She smiles sadly at the memory of him. “I thought I should write it down but then I didn’t want a paper trail, or for it to fall into the wrong hands. I couldn’t contact you; I wasn’t sure if you would find it.”