The Rule of One (The Rule of One #1)(13)

Halton stands, taking his time to straighten his clothes. He smooths back his greasy hair and brushes the dirt from his jacket. He bends down so there are only a few inches of air between us. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers.

He seizes a handful of flowers from the ground and marches with his bounty down the row, Agent Hayes following in his wake.

I sit paralyzed, a small figure in the large, empty garden. He can’t know.

He can’t.





AVA

Father stands in front of us like a drill sergeant about to scold his troops. His piercing gaze scans Mira before it falls on me, dripping with disappointment.

Mira and I usually have time alone together before our nightly family meetings, but Father followed Mira into the basement directly after dinner. He didn’t want to give us a chance to formulate a defense justifying our switch.

I can’t hear a thing through the soundproof walls, but I saw Roth strong-arm Gwen and the surprise photo shoot over the surveillance video. Not good at all. Father must be livid.

I need just one glance from Mira to reassure me she managed it all fine, but she won’t give it to me.

“Did you honestly think you could trick your own father?” he finally says.

“We’ve done it before,” I say in defense. And we have.

Last year, I found an illegal bottle of Japanese Nikka whisky buried in the tomato garden I was tending in the greenhouse. Hidden in one of the cameras’ blind zones, I made certain no one saw me take it. I couldn’t resist surprising Mira with such a rare delicacy—the government can’t stop all contraband from being sold on the black market. Mira ended up drinking so much celebratory whisky the night we found out our placement level results at Strake, she spent the entire next morning vomiting. I went to school that day in Mira’s place; Father still doesn’t know it was me.

“Your life is not a game, Ava! How could you take such a childish risk on a night like this?”

I hate when he refers to us like we are still children. And our life is one endless game.

“Do you hold no fear for Governor Roth or his agents? Do I need to remind you what he is capable of?”

No, it’s perfectly clear to me what Roth is capable of: anything. Defiant, I keep my head held high, but I can see Mira’s eyes shift to the floor. Why is she backing down?

“Nothing happened,” I say, because she doesn’t.

He gives me an incredulous look. “Routine has gotten us this far, and it is the only reason you two have survived these eighteen years. You are growing too reckless. The odds are already against us without the both of you messing up our schedule. The moment we get comfortable is when everything we’ve worked so hard to keep will be taken from us. Have you completely forgotten what is at risk—”

“Have you?” Mira cuts Father off. “You dared to speak out against Governor Roth during dinner. Threatening him with our society’s collapse . . . threatening him with riots! Why would you go against the rules you made and take such a risk?”

I look from Father to Mira, taken aback not only by what my sister’s saying, but also by her anger. What the hell happened at dinner?

Father rubs a hand hard over his face and opens his mouth for a rebuttal, but Mira can’t keep her words from pouring out.

“And how long have you known Roth’s intention to marry us to Halton? How does that fit into the plan?”

My mouth drops open.

“What?” I turn to Father, expecting him to deny Mira’s revelation straightaway.

“I was just made aware of his intention to do so tonight. I will deal with it when the time comes,” he says. “As I will deal with the Anniversary Gala. Your face will not be on a skyrise.”

It’s my turn for words. The truth is boiling hot inside of me like lava primed to explode. Feelings I’ve never admitted out loud, much less expressed to my father.

“You will deal with it when the time comes. We must always stick to the plan that you made for us. But it’s our life, Father, and this is all happening right now, not in some far-off future. We aren’t just pieces of some mapped-out strategy.”

I take a step toward him. “We can’t go on forever like this. We aren’t children anymore—something has to change. We agreed to continue at Strake for our medical degree, but we have to be allowed our own apartment in the city next semester.”

“Absolutely not,” Father says. “We cannot afford to make careless decisions. The safest place for you both is here with me.”

“We can’t spend our entire life living in our father’s basement!” Mira shouts.

“That’s enough!” Father yells back, raising a trembling hand for silence.

Mira and I flinch. I’ve never seen Father lose his carefully controlled temper so completely. We stand side by side, shaken and quiet, eyes fixed to the ground. We pushed too far. I quickly glance up and notice lines on my father’s face that weren’t there before.

“It’s getting late,” he says in a gentler tone. He takes a long, deep breath. “You have exactly one hour to finish debriefing each other on your day.” He addresses Mira. “Afterward, you are to go straight upstairs to Ava’s room for the night. I will be checking.”

Later, when Father leaves the basement, he will sit motionless on the living room couch for hours. A hologram of our smiling mother, so realistic and detailed, will float in front of him. He likes the video of her simply walking around our house the best. She’ll wander through the kitchen, giving a tour of our newly built home, before Mira and I were born. She’ll laugh and hold out her hand, eyes playfully saying to him, “I love you.”