Cecelia Ahern - Perfect

He stiffens, stands up. “You want to take my job in return for what? Her? ” He points his finger at me. “I already have her.”

I’m insulted that he can’t even say my name. As is Raphael, who regards this all with disgust.

“ I have the footage,” Sanchez says, and I see the color drain from Crevan’s face. “I saw you hold that iron in your hand and brand that seventeen-year-old girl. It was deplorable. Disgusting. This is not what the Guild was founded for.”

He is momentarily shaken by this. “As I said, the footage was faked.”

“I think people would be extremely doubtful about that.”

He swallows.

“It puts the entire Guild in disrepute, Bosco, and I will make it public if I have to because they are your actions. Your remaining as head judge will bring about the end of the Guild. It’s already happening. I can begin a new relationship with the new government. It will be like starting fresh, continuing on with what we set out to do.”

Crevan isn’t happy about this. The Guild is his baby; perhaps Erica Edelman is right about Crevan treating the country as if it were his child. When his wife died he fell to pieces; he started blaming everybody else for her loss, starting off by branding the doctor who missed the cancer, who misdiagnosed her. Then he got a taste for revenge, and that’s when he came apart at the seams, becoming this monster.

“You can’t do this.” Crevan leans toward Sanchez threateningly. “The Guild was founded by my family. It has always been led by a Crevan.”

“I can do this and I will,” Sanchez says, standing.

Raphael and I look at each other. This isn’t looking good for me. They’re working out a deal and I’m not gaining anything.

“It is the right and best thing to do,” she says. “You leave on your terms, at the start of a new government, a new era, a new beginning for the Guild. You go quietly, no questions asked, no video released.”

“What about me?” I ask, breaking their long stare.

“I will grant you your freedom,” she says. “Mr. Angelo is correct. The Guild is not above an act of decency and mercy.”

“You will overrule me?” Crevan raises his voice.

“It’s the only way.”

“It is not,” he yells. Carrick and Granddad are glued to their glass walls, trying to understand what is going on, just as much as Raphael and I, who are in the room.

Crevan marches to the door of my cell, tries to open it.

“It’s locked,” I say.

“For God’s sake, open this door,” he yells at the top of his voice.

“They can’t hear you from here,” I say calmly. “Soundproofed.”

He turns to us, face red and trembling, his insides bubbling with rage, ready to explode. The guard comes just in time to unlock the cell and he catapults himself out of here as fast as he can, almost knocking over the guard.

SIXTY-FOUR

SANCHEZ EXHALES, a long shaky breath.

“So you’re granting me my freedom. I’ll no longer be Flawed.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll let my granddad go, too?” I ask Sanchez.

“Yes.”

“You’ll let Mr. Angelo go?”

“Yes.”

“My parents had to pay my legal costs.”

“That will be refunded by the Guild.”

“Marlena Ponta, she was my character witness at my trial. You will say that she didn’t mislead the Guild. Publicly.”

“Yes.”

“Celestine’s brands,” Raphael says. “The Guild will cover the costs of their removal.”

Sanchez is thoughtful. “Yes.”

“This verdict overturn will be public knowledge?” Raphael asks.

“It will.”

My heart pounds. This is everything I wanted. I want the world to know that Crevan made a mistake so that it will help shine a light on all his Flawed cases. If Crevan is Flawed, then so is the entire Guild. Then perhaps it will bring an end to the Flawed regime. I can’t believe this is everything that I wanted. Though not quite everything.

Sanchez gathers her papers and, as if reading my mind, asks, “That’s everything?”

I look over at Carrick. “And Carrick Vane. His verdict must be overturned, too.”

She looks at me then, and I think I see a smile at the corner of her lips.

“No,” she says.

SIXTY-FIVE

“BUT YOU HAVE to grant Carrick his freedom, too.” I raise my voice.

“Carrick Vane isn’t part of your case,” Sanchez says. “He has nothing to do with this discussion.”

“But he is being punished for being on the run with me.”

“He is being punished for evading his Whistleblower. There will be no punishment for his colluding with you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But you have to let him go free,” I say, voice shaky now.

“No,” she says again firmly. She looks at Raphael. “Are we finished here? I’ll draw up the paperwork.”

“I need time to consult with my counsel,” I say, to their absolute surprise. “I need time to think.”

Raphael closes his eyes, with dread.

“How much time?” Sanchez asks.

I look at the clock. “I don’t know. Tomorrow?”

“You have until the end of the day.”

“But they’ve agreed to everything, Celestine,” Raphael says. “You have your life back. Take the deal .”

“Listen to your counsel, Celestine,” Sanchez says, gathering her papers. “My offer comes off the table at six PM today.” She walks to the door and the guard opens it for her immediately.

“What’s going on?” Raphael asks as soon as she’s gone. “You should take the deal. This is exactly what you wanted. Your case publicly being overturned will raise questions about the entire Flawed system, which in turn will help everyone.”

“And, realistically, how long will that take? I want Carrick to be free now.”

“When you began this, you wanted to find Crevan Flawed. This is a step in that direction. Celestine, you have to stick to the plan. Don’t be foolish. You can do a great deal more good for Carrick and for all of the Flawed after you’ve regained your freedom. Don’t let Carrick sway your decision.”

My heart pounds at the enormity of the choice facing me.

I glance up at the clock, watching the minutes pass.

“Look, you’re young, I understand,” continues Raphael. “When I was eighteen I was crazy about this girl, Marie. Christ, if you’d asked me to jump off a cliff for Marie, I would have. Celestine, don’t give up your freedom at eighteen for somebody else. You have so much to learn. You have to think of yourself now. Take the deal.”

I finally look at Carrick, who is so close to the glass he looks like he wants to punch through it if I don’t tell him what’s going on.

I sigh and pick up a pen and paper that Judge Sanchez mistakenly left behind, though nothing she does ever hints at being a mistake. I lift the page and show it to him.

They agreed to everything, except you.

He stares at it for a moment, allowing it to settle, and then he nods, in a so what way. He folds his arms and studies me intently, asking me, telling me, to let him know that I took the deal. I squirm under his gaze.

I shake my head.

He throws his hands up angrily, and though I can’t hear him, I see him shouting at me . He wants me to be free. He wants me to take the deal.

I write again and push the paper flat against the glass.

I will never feel free if you’re not.

This seems to break him. I know it touches him, but it breaks him more because he snaps. I know he’s shouting my name but I can’t hear a word from my soundproofed box. I shake my head and look away; I don’t want to see any more protests. He can’t argue with me when my back is turned, which I know will drive him demented, but I can’t argue with him here, not like this. I’ve made my decision, and yet what Raphael has said stays with me. Am I being foolish?