Cecelia Ahern - Flawed

I know immediately who this is. I move my head away from his chest and look upward and see that he’s looking down at me.

Carrick.

With his intense eyes, worried and concerned as I smile at him. Carrick, who I only ever really saw through glass. There’s no glass now. Despite the madness around us, he returns my smile.

“I told you I’d find you.”

And we float away, away from the light, away from the sound.

SIXTY-FOUR

I WAKE UP with a groan, feeling raw from head to toe. I’m in my bed, in my house. It is dark apart from the light from the landing shining through the gap in the door. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the gloom, but soon I can make everything out. There is no one in the chair beside my bed. I am still wearing the clothes I was wearing earlier. It is night outside, which means only a few hours have passed since I remember being awake. The events in the supermarket come back to me in a rush, and I think of Granddad, of his waiting outside for me and of his bleeding wound. I need to get my phone to call him, to make sure he escaped safely, but voices downstairs stop that thought.

The voices are low and urgent. Then I hear Mom’s voice, quick and pleading, higher and faster than usual, and it is quickly talked over by someone else. I recognize the voice, but it can’t be. Crevan, downstairs! I must be dreaming. He wouldn’t be here, in this house. I try to sit up but groan again. My stomach is sore; my ribs must be broken, at least one of them. My hand goes to my stomach and I feel a bandage wrapped around me. I swing my legs out of bed. I’m dizzy. I wait with closed eyes for the floor to stop spinning, for the nausea to pass.

I see water beside my bed and gulp it down. I manage to stand, feeling an ache everywhere, in every muscle. I don’t remember getting home, though I remember the floating sensation in the supermarket, being held by Carrick, feeling so comfortable and safe in his arms. His smiling at me, my resting my head against his chest and closing my eyes. After that, my memory is gone, and I wonder, did I imagine him? Was he real?

My door opens, and Juniper steps inside. There is panic on her face, and I know something is very wrong. “Celestine, you’re awake.”

“What’s wrong?” I think of Granddad being left behind and prepare for the worst.

Her breathing is fast. “Crevan is here. Downstairs. He’s threatening Mom and Dad. He says Dad will lose his job and they will be imprisoned if they don’t hand you over right now.”

My mouth falls open.

“He’s going to call the Whistleblowers to take you away if they don’t bring you downstairs themselves, but I don’t believe him. He would have called them by now himself. He’s up to something. I think he just wants to take you somewhere himself. What does he want to do with you, Celestine? Do you know? Is it about Art? He asked them where the video is. They don’t know what he’s talking about. Do you? He says you have it and he needs it.”

I look at her, feeling dizzy, confused. He knows about Mr. Berry’s video. How? He thinks I have it. I need to speak with Pia. She’s the only person who knew about it other than Mr. Berry and Carrick. She was the one searching for it. Suddenly I’m worried for her. I haven’t heard from her in days. Then I remember my phone call with Mr. Berry’s husband. Crevan must have been listening in. My phone was bugged.

“Mom and Dad are trying to talk him out of taking you. He says you were at a Flawed rally this evening. And then caused a riot at the supermarket. Two people died. The police fired tear gas. It’s all over the news. There are riots on the streets. The media are blaming you. Somebody filmed it, but Celestine, my God, Celestine.” Her eyes fill up, and she starts crying. “I watched it, and I am so proud of you. I could never have said what you said, could never have done what you’ve done. The court, the chamber, the supermarket … I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’re amazing, and I’m so proud of you. He says he’ll drop the charges if you give him the video.”

I shake my head, confused by all this, still dizzy, head pounding.

Juniper tries to compose herself, realizing now is not a time for her emotions, the urgency back. “I’ve packed you a bag. Crevan is in the library with Mom and Dad. You can slip out the back door. The man who carried you home left this for you.” She pushes a note into my hand. “Don’t lose it, Celestine. He wanted to help you. He knows people who can help you. Find him, okay? Promise me you’ll find him. Then I know you’ll be okay.” She runs her hand over my face and cries again. “My brave little sister, I’ve missed you. I will miss you.”

My mind is racing with all that she has said. I have to go away? I have to leave my family to protect them. Crevan knows about the video of the sixth branding in the chamber. He thinks that I have it—he knows that I have it—only I have no idea where it is, but he will never believe that. He will not give up until he finds it, and I must move to safety until I can figure out my next move.

“The curfew,” I say.

“Mary May has been already. It’s after eleven. If Mom and Dad can keep Crevan at bay, you have until morning before anyone realizes. Celestine, I love you.” Juniper is crying. “I’m so sorry for how everything has turned out between us.”

I make a move to walk away. I can’t hear this now.

She reaches out and holds my arm tight. “Please listen to me. I need to explain. I need you to know what’s been going on.”

I slowly turn around, ready to hear the worst, prepared to hear about her and Art. My worse fears realized.

“Nothing happened with Art,” she says, tears rolling down her face. “He contacted me for help. He needed someone to help him hide out in the sheds, bring him food. He didn’t want you knowing because he didn’t want you to get into any trouble. He knew his dad would hurt you to find out where he was, and he knew you were being watched. He made me promise not to tell you, but some days, I swear, Celestine, I was so close to telling you. I should have. He was locked up most days, hiding in the Tinders’ shed, and so at night we met to talk about you. About how we both felt we’d let you down. Neither of us could live with it. He was the only person who could understand how I felt. That’s all it was, honestly. I was trying to help him, keep him safe for you.” She sniffs. “I’m so sorry.”

I breathe a sigh of relief that there was nothing more between them, that they were genuinely trying to protect me, even if it still feels like a betrayal. We hug tightly, as if we never will again.

“I’ve always been so jealous of you, always,” she continues. “You were always so perfect. You always did everything right, said everything right. Everybody liked you. I was jealous of your perfection. And now I’m jealous that you’re Flawed. It should have been me who did what you did on the bus. I wanted to. I thought about it all the time. But even when it came to it, I wasn’t brave enough, another thing I couldn’t do. I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened on the bus,” I say, and I mean it. “It was all my own doing. None of this is your fault. I never asked for either of you to save me. You couldn’t have. The three of us would be in the same situation that I’m in right now. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I don’t want to dwell on the Art issue now. I need time to find the right words.

“No,” she interrupts me, firmly. “I chickened out. I relive it every second of every day. I should have backed you up on the bus.” She wipes her cheeks, an air of bravery in it, the little soldier. “But now I’m doing the right thing. The brave thing. You have to go, Celestine, or else Crevan will take you away, and I don’t know where that will be.”