Flawed (Flawed, #1)(34)

I recall Art’s telling me when he gave me the anklet that a man at Highland Castle made it for him. Bark is the man who branded me perfect, and the same man who brands me Flawed. We share a long look.

“Bark,” June says sternly.

Bark is momentarily human as his sad eyes pass over mine, and then he snaps out of it.

“Brace yourself,” Tina says gently, hand supportively on my shoulder.

“One, two…” Sear.

I can see my mom crying into a pile of tissues, her composure completely and utterly cracked, smashed, and shattered. My dad is on his feet, pacing. A redheaded guard is near him, keeping a concerned eye on him, ready to step in if Dad crosses the mark. I can’t hear them, but they can hear me. It’s all part of the fear they place on the public. Let them hear my screams. Make a mistake, and you’ll end up like her.

So far I haven’t made a sound, and I won’t.

Bark’s hand comes into sight and injects my chest with the anesthetic. Again, I’m numb. The red-hot poker comes toward me again. I can feel its heat. I feel the familiar squeeze of Tina and realize it has nothing to do with support and is merely procedure. She’s readying me, but by now I’m ready to pass out. The smell is unbearable. It is the smell of my own burning skin.

I feel a blast of air. June has opened a window or something, must be to get rid of the smell of burning flesh. They’re not used to this. I can tell from the anxious looks on their faces. The average Flawed person receives one brand, rarely two. One man in the entire history received three, but never, ever five. I am the only person in the world to receive five. I feel dizzy, but I know I’m not moving. I close my eyes and squeeze tight.

“One, two…” Sear.

I feel like I can’t breathe. I haven’t felt the sting on my chest, but it’s as though psychologically I do. Pressure on my chest so immense I want to escape the constraints. I battle against them, still not making a sound. I refuse. The floor is moving. It’s rising upward. It’s going to hit me in the face.

“Celestine? Celestine, are you okay?” I hear Tina, but I can’t focus on her, her face keeps moving. She’s saying something about the bucket, but I can’t concentrate. I keep thinking of the tongue. I see Clayton Byrne’s tongue as he coughs in my face. I don’t want my tongue to be seared.

Tina tells me to take deep breaths.

“This is too much for her,” Tina says worriedly to Bark, who surprisingly is viewing me with uncertainty, too. “We need to alert someone. Maybe take a break. Do the rest tomorrow.”

“Guys, I know this is hard, but we have to do it,” June says in a low voice. “The longer we chat, the harder it is for her. Let’s not drag it out on her any more. The family is watching,” she adds with a whisper. “Let’s finish this for everybody’s sake.”

An injection in my temple. Quicker this time.

A squeeze on my shoulder. I know that for all time, if anyone squeezes me on the shoulder, it will be the trigger that brings me back to this.

“One, two…” Sear.

I gag. I retch. Smelling burning flesh. My own flesh.

Bark is mumbling something.

“Sweet Jesus,” June says, suddenly changing her mind. “We should be tending to her wounds now. This is taking too long.”

“You’re doing great, Celestine,” Tina says close to my ear. “A real little hero, almost there now, okay? Hang in there.”

I half laugh and half cry.

I look up and see both of my parents and Granddad standing now, in a row at the window, lining up. Distraught, angry faces. Mr. Berry is not pleased. He is pacing. He is on the phone. Probably hearing the guards’ concerns, he is trying to do something about it. Granddad is arguing with the security guard. I can feel the tension in that room from here. I take deep breaths. I will not scream.

“Here.” Bark appears in my line of sight with a bottle of water and a straw. It’s a trick, it must be a trick. Tina guides it into my mouth, and as I suck I think about my tongue being seared. It’s next. I retch again. I can’t hold down the water.

It is pandemonium in the viewing gallery. I can feel their energy, their erratic, angry movements. My eyes move from side to side. I try to focus, but I can’t. I know why I’m here, and then I don’t know why I’m here. I understand, and then I don’t. I think it’s fair, and then I don’t. I wish I’d never done what I’d done, and then I’m glad I did. I want to scream, but I don’t.

Suddenly my family members scatter like a flock of birds, as though something was thrown at them, and then I see Judge Crevan in my face, a smug sneer twisting his mouth. Mr. Berry must have gotten him, tried to stop the inhumanity. Too late, but now he’s here in the Branding Chamber. He blocks my view of my family.

“Had enough, have we, Celestine?”

I groan. I will not cry. Not to him.

They say I’m numbed, but I’m feeling sensations on my wounded body. Tingling. If the anesthetic wears off, it will turn to stinging, then burning. I don’t want it to wear off. Suddenly, this is my main fear. I wish I’d paid more attention to the information in my cell—how long does it take before the anesthetic wears off?

“I warned you. I told you this would happen, but you didn’t listen.”

Crevan’s red robe is the same color as the scar on my hand, and I’m guessing as my foot, chest, and temple. My blood is on his robe. He did this to me. Him. I feel nothing but disgust for him. I used to think that I couldn’t be afraid of someone so human. Now I realize it is his humanity that scares me most, because despite having all those traits, having shared the moments we’ve shared, he could still do this to me. Now I find him terrifying. I see the evil in him.