Flawed (Flawed, #1)(79)

I’m summoned to the kitchen because Mary May has paid me a surprise visit and apparently has an announcement. I’m immediately terrified. I’m guessing it has something to do with the alcohol test I took Friday night that tested positive. Despite Colleen, Gavin, and Natasha being unable to escape the situation as Logan had, the three of them had categorically denied drinking any alcohol, which made it look like it was an act I had done on my own, which is against Flawed rules. Though how I, tied up and locked in a shed, had happened upon alcohol all by myself is too stupid for even the Guild to pin on me. Though I’m sure they spent the weekend trying.

Mary May produces some documents from her satchel. Looking at her, I feel the sting of her leather glove on my cheek and I see the woman who reported her entire family to the Guild and watched them one after another be branded for life. Who knows what else she’s capable of, and my life is in her hands.

“Your detention this week has been withdrawn,” she says in a clipped voice, and I can tell she hates delivering this news. I can tell she hates even opening her mouth wide enough in this house to breathe in the Flawed air. She’s appalled by it, yet she’s drawn to it. “An anonymous source submitted the photograph in its entirety to the Guild. The Guild had it tested for Photoshopping or meddling of any kind and is satisfied with the claim that it is original and is the image of Juniper North in her art class. On your separate charge, the Guild has also ruled to drop the alcohol charges. Colleen Tinder’s testimony matches with the amount of alcohol found in your bloodstream, which was minimal.”

To my utter surprise, Mom, who is wearing dungarees and a plaid shirt, punches the air close to Mary May’s face and hisses, “Yes!” Then she throws her arms around me in a tight embrace so that I can’t see Mary May’s reaction. Mom warned me only days ago not to test Mary May, but she is playing a dangerous game herself. I hear the door slam as Mary May leaves.

Feeling victorious from my double win, I feel like I can take on the world, that I can go further to righting more wrongs. Now I am free to investigate as I planned. Leaving everybody to celebrate without me, including Juniper, who looked genuinely pleased for me but knew not to come near me, I go to my bedroom. I take out Mr. Berry’s business card from my pocket and dial the number written on the back.

“Hello?” a quiet voice answers.

“Hello, is that … Mr. Berry’s husband?”

“Who’s this?” he says, even quieter, so that I have to strain my ear to hear.

“My name is Celestine North. He represented me in—”

“I know who you are,” he interrupts quickly, but not rudely. “You shouldn’t be calling here.”

It sounds like he’s moving around. Distracted. Something brushes against the phone.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that Mr. Berry provided me with this phone number in the invoice, and I thought that he wanted me to call here. Can I speak to him, please?”

Silence. At first, I think he’s gone, but I can hear him breathing.

“Hello?”

“Yes,” he says quickly again, so quietly it’s as though it’s a bad line and he’s a million miles away. “He’s not here,” he says, and my heart falls. “She already called looking for him.”

I’m confused at first, unsure of whom he’s talking about, but then I remember Pia and note that he doesn’t want to mention her name. He thinks people are listening.

“You don’t need to worry about … her,” I say. “She says she’s trying to help me.” He must be afraid she’s going to write an article about Mr. Berry. Of course he would tell her he’s not there. They’re all afraid of Pia. Who would speak to her? I would insist on her honesty, but I can’t do that when I’m not completely sure myself.

“He can trust me,” I say.

“He’s not here, I told you,” he says, more impatient and a little louder. Then quietly again he adds, “He had to go away. He didn’t tell me where. He was in a hurry. He knew about the others.”

That startles me. So Mr. Berry wasn’t taken by Crevan. He is in hiding after what happened to the guards.

“Okay…” I think quickly. He doesn’t want to give names away, any information away. How can I say what I want to say? “I’m looking for something—do you know what it is?”

“Yes,” he practically whispers.

He knows about the sixth brand.

“Did you see it?” I ask, not wanting to mention the video directly. If Crevan’s people are listening, I don’t want to make it too easy for them.

There’s a long silence again, and I know my patience is being tested. This is like pulling teeth, but I must stick it out. I know he won’t answer the phone to me again. It’s now or never.

“Yes,” he says, finally, so faintly. “I saw it. I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

I try hard not to cry. “Do you have it? Do you know where it is?”

“No,” he says. “I told the other woman already. I don’t have it.”

I collapse back on my bed, so disappointed, so angry, my eyes fill up.

“But I didn’t tell her this,” he adds quickly. “You have it. He told me you have it.” He hangs up.