Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(105)

“Alec was one of our more radical members. I didn’t agree with his methods. It’s true that I recruit students to petition the Directorate for more individual rights, but I don’t condone violence. The Revisionists hope to promote change in a peaceful manner.”

Ferrin picked a speck of lint off his sleeve. “You’re saying Alec acted on his own. He wasn’t working in collusion with you or the other Revisionists members?”

“No. He wasn’t.” Fists clenched, Zavien stepped forward. “The fact that your wife and son are still alive should be proof of where my loyalties lie.”

The Directorate members muttered among themselves. Ferrin tilted his head and listened. “We’ve heard your testimony and come to the conclusion you acted appropriately given the circumstances. Please leave the chambers. We’ve further matters to discuss.”

Zavien stalked from the room without a glance in her direction. Would he be allowed to wait somewhere on her grandfather’s estate, or would he be escorted from the property? Could she sneak out after him without drawing attention to herself? Not likely. They’d parted company late last night, and she hadn’t been allowed to speak with him since.

“Bryn McKenna, please stand and approach the Directorate.”

What was this about? She looked to her grandmother for an explanation, but the woman maintained her usual stoic expression.

Taking a deep breath, she stood and walked to the front of the room. Moving toward Ferrin went against her instinct for survival.

“State your full name,” he said in a bored tone.

She fantasized about flipping him off. Instead, she spoke in a calm voice. “Bryn Marie McKenna.”

“Do you claim to be the legal descendant of the Sinclair line?”

“My mother is Sara Sinclair. Is that what you’re asking?” She watched with perverse joy as a muscle in Ferrin’s jaw twitched. The jerk was still angry over her mother running away to marry someone else nineteen years ago.

“Are you the descendant of Ephram and Marie Sinclair?” Ferrin asked.

She turned to her grandmother. “I didn’t know I was named after you.”

Her grandmother’s chin jutted out.

“Miss McKenna, we are in the middle of a proceeding.” Ferrin smacked his palm on the table. “Stick to answering the questions.”

“What’s this about? Am I on trial?”

“Unfortunately, no. We are in the process of legally recognizing you as the granddaughter of Ephram and Marie Sinclair. If you’d answer the questions, we could proceed.”

What did legal recognition mean?

“Answer the question, Miss McKenna.” Ferrin’s composure seemed to be slipping.

She couldn’t resist prodding him to see what would happen. “Wait. What question are you talking about?”

Ferrin clenched his teeth. “Are you the granddaughter of—”

“Yes,” she interrupted.

“Never interrupt the Speaker of the Directorate,” Ferrin bellowed, leaning over the table.

His anger washed over her like a tidal wave. “A list of rules might be helpful.”

“That’s it.” He pounded his fist on the table. “You’re officially recognized. Get out of my sight.”

Bryn scooted from the room and found Zavien waiting in the hall. She threw her arms around his neck. He wound his arms around her waist. Pulling her close, he brushed his lips across hers.

“Are we celebrating my freedom, or did you miss me this much?”

His breath feathered across her ear, sending a shiver down her spine and making it hard to think. “We’re celebrating your freedom and my official status as the granddaughter of Ephram and Marie Sinclair.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in the lopsided grin she loved. “I bet Ferrin choked on those words.”

“I believe they caused him great pain.”

The door from the meeting room swung open. Bryn and Zavien stepped apart as Jaxon, Lillith, and her grandmother joined them in the hall.

Merrick emerged behind them. “We’re taking a short recess, but the Directorate meeting will go on for a few more hours. Bryn, your grandmother wants to serve brunch, and then I’ll take you back to the Institute.”

“I’ve asked Abigail to set a table in the atrium.” Her grandmother set off down the hall at a quick pace. Lillith hurried to catch up with the older woman.

Bryn would rather return to school and spend time with Zavien and her friends, but arguing with her grandmother was a lost cause, so she followed along behind the two women, straining to hear what they discussed.

“Afraid they’re plotting to marry you off to Jaxon?” Zavien asked.

“That’s not funny.”

She spoke to Jaxon, who walked a few paces behind them. “Why don’t you talk to your mother?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t know. Tell her how much you care about your girlfriend.”

Jaxon snorted. “I’m not in the habit of lying to my mother.”

His comment brought her to a dead halt. “What does that mean?”

“I respect Rhianna.” He loosened his tie. “According to the Directorate, we have compatible lineage, and she was my father’s choice. It’s premature to say I care a great deal when I’ve just started spending time with her.”