Internment(81)

A knock.

“Layla, are you okay?” Jake’s voice filters through the door.

I rub my eyes with my fists and go to open the door to meet Jake’s furrowed brow and bloodshot eyes. “Had a nightmare. Where I’m put in a prison camp and the Director assaults me and my parents are taken away and people die. And it’s all my fault.”

Jake steps toward me and gently wraps his hands around my upper arms. “Nothing is your fault, do you understand? Not one single thing.”

I look at the floor and nod. That’s what everyone keeps saying. Maybe someday I’ll believe it.

“Please hear me. You are not to blame for anything. Not for this camp, for your parents, for Soheil. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. So much of this is my fault. Please tell me you get that. You went to battle against a monster. That’s courage.”

I fold myself into Jake’s arms. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“Always.”

I try not to think about what it means that Jake is the one comforting me, because I need it right now. I need my mom and dad and David. But Jake is the one who is here. There is a kind of alchemy to it, when one human touches another and makes the aloneness less terrifying.

I walk into the kitchen and take a seat at the little table. Jake’s cleaned up the spilled tea. He hands me a glass of water and a banana and sits next to me.

“Ouch.” I flinch biting into the banana, the scab on my upper lip painful even against the soft fruit.

“That’s probably going to hurt for a while. The bruises, too.”

“Great. Never thought I could rock a battle-scarred face, but I guess I have no choice now.” I try a halfhearted smile, but that hurts, too. My mind feels thick, and last night’s conversation and what Jake just said to me finally make a little sense. “What do you mean, it’s your fault?”

Jake looks down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. He sighs and rubs his forehead. “I had orders to let things play out.”

“Play out?”

“When the Director took you, I reported it to my superior. I mean, High Command is here. I was told to not interfere. I was ordered to let him interrogate you. They needed incriminating evidence—something unimpeachable—to take down the Director, maybe this whole place.”

My mouth drops open. Tears well in my eyes. I’ve been punched all over again. I was bait for a trap set without my knowledge.

“Layla, I’m so sorry. I was following orders. Trying to see the big picture. Letting my reason outweigh my feelings. I could have—should have—stopped it. I know what I did was unforgivable, but I swear, I’m not going to let the Director or anyone else hurt you ever again.”

I hear Jake’s words but can’t process them through any filter that makes them less painful. Orders. Bringing down Mobius. That’s what matters. But how do I go on from this? “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jake,” I whisper.

He looks at me. “My word is my bond. He won’t touch you again.”

I cast my eyes away, not able to sit with this, to talk about it anymore, to face him. Jake was doing what was necessary, but there is this chasm now between us. People make sacrifices to change the world. In the big picture, maybe my being offered as bait will make a difference. But it doesn’t take away the horror of being dangled on a hook to catch a big fish. One day, I’ll have to deal with it, but I can’t now. For now, I have to push the feeling away, lock it in a place so it can’t hurt me anymore.

“What time is it anyway?” I change the subject. “I mean, how long have I been asleep?”

Jake looks at his watch. “It’s one a.m. You took the painkillers around eight a.m. yesterday.”

“What? I’ve been asleep for, like, a whole day? That can’t be right.”

“You woke up once, but you fell back asleep. Dr. Han said the painkillers would knock you out, so I guess they did the job.”

“I still feel so tired, though.”

Jake cups his hand over mine. “You’ve been through hell. I want—” I pull my hand away.

A knock on the door interrupts him. Jake puts his finger to his lips and motions for me to move to my bedroom. He takes his handgun from the top of the fridge and releases the safety. He walks to the door and stands next to it. “Who is it?”

“It’s Fred. I’m alone.”

Hearing Fred’s voice, I step back into the common area from the threshold of my bedroom. Jake holsters his gun and opens the door for his friend and quickly shuts it behind him.

“What’s up?”

“I came to tell you—” Fred glances at me. His jaw drops; clearly, my bruising and swelling look worse than yesterday. “Layla. Are you okay?”

I run my tongue over the scab on my lip. “I’m still here. Thanks.”

“I can’t believe what that asshole did to you.”

“Fred, what did you come here to tell me?” Jake slips into his crisp military voice.

“The shit has hit the fan. Dr. Han circumvented chain of command and took the video straight to the head of the National Guard and the attorney general. Then she leaked it.”

“What? No!” I yell. The whole world is going to see it. And I’ll have to watch myself get hit over and over. The thought alone makes me sick to my stomach. A tear runs down my face.