The One (The Selection, #3)(55)

He leaned his head toward mine until our foreheads touched. I heard him draw in a breath as if he might say something and then change his mind. After a few seconds, he did it again. Finally, Maxon leaned back and shook his head and kissed my cheek. “Stay safe.”

Then he left me alone in my sadness.

It was cold in Carolina, the humidity from the ocean coming inland and making the chill in the air damp. Secretly, I’d hoped for snow, but it didn’t happen. I felt guilty for wanting anything at all.

Christmas Day. I’d spent the last few weeks imagining it several different ways. I thought maybe I’d be here, eliminated and home. We’d all be around our tree, dejected that I wasn’t a princess but blissfully happy to be together. I’d also considered opening gifts under the massive tree at the palace, eating myself sick, and laughing with the other girls and Maxon, for one day every corner of the competition suspended to celebrate.

Never could I have imagined I’d be bracing myself for the task of putting my father in the ground.

As the car pulled up to my street, I started to see the masses. Though people ought to be home with their families, they instead crowded outside in the cold. I realized they were hoping to catch a glimpse of me, and I felt a little sick. People pointed as we passed, and some local news crews took footage.

The car stopped in front of my house, and the people waiting started cheering. I didn’t understand. Didn’t they know why I was here? I walked up the cracked sidewalk with Lucy by my side and six guards surrounding us. No chance was being taken.

“Lady America!” people called.

“Can I have your autograph?” someone screamed, and others joined in.

I kept moving, looking ahead. For once, I felt I could excuse myself from being theirs. I lifted my head to the lights hanging off the roof. Dad did that. Who was going to take them down?

Aspen, at the head of my entourage, knocked on the front door and waited. Another guard came to answer and he and Aspen spoke quickly before we were allowed inside. It was hard to get all of us down the hall, but once the space opened into the living room, I immediately felt something . . . wrong.

This wasn’t home anymore.

I told myself I was crazy. Of course this was home. It was just the unfamiliarity of how this was unfolding. Everyone was here, even Kota. But Dad was gone, so it was only natural that it wouldn’t seem quite right. And Kenna was holding a baby who I’d never seen in real life before. I’d have to get used to that.

And while Mom was in an apron and Gerad was in his pajamas, I was dressed for dinner at the palace: hair up, sapphires on my ears, and layers of luxurious fabrics draping to my heeled shoes. It felt as if I wasn’t welcome for a moment.

But May hopped to her feet and ran to hug me, crying into my shoulder. I held her back. I remembered that this might be a strange adjustment, but this was the only place I could be right now. I had to be with my family.

“America,” Kenna said, standing with her child in her arms. “You look so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, embarrassed.

She gave me a one-armed hug, and I peeked into the blankets at my sleeping niece. Astra’s little face was serene as she slept, and every few seconds she’d unclench her tiny fist or fidget just a bit. She was breathtaking.

Aspen cleared his throat. “Mrs. Singer, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Mom gave him a tired smile. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry we’re not here under better circumstances, but with Lady America home, we’re going to have to be quite diligent about security,” he said, a ring of authority in his voice. “We’re going to have to ask everyone to stay in this house. I know it’ll be tight, but it’s only for a few days. And the guards have been provided an apartment nearby so we can rotate easily. We’re going to try to be as out of the way as possible.

“James, Kenna, Kota, we’re prepared to leave for your homes to pick up your necessities whenever you’re ready to go. If you need some time to make a list, that’s fine. We’re on your schedule.”

I smiled a little, happy to see Aspen this way. He’d grown so much.

“I can’t stay away from my studio,” Kota said. “I have deadlines. There are pieces due.”

Aspen, still professional, answered him. “Any materials you need can come to the studio here.” He pointed toward our converted garage. “We’ll make as many trips as necessary.”

Kota crossed his arms and mumbled. “That place is a dump.”

“Fine,” Aspen said firmly. “The choice is yours. You can either work in the dump, or you can risk your life at your apartment.”

The tension in the air was awkward, and very unnecessary at the moment. I decided to break it. “May, you can sleep with me. Kenna and James can have your room.”

They nodded.

“Lucy,” I whispered. “I want you near us. You might have to sleep on the floor, but I want you close by.”

She stood a bit taller. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, miss.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Kota demanded.

“With me,” Gerad offered, though he didn’t seem excited about it.

“Absolutely not!” Kota scoffed. “I’m not sleeping on a bunk bed with a child.”

“Kota!” I said, stepping away from my sisters and Lucy. “You can sleep on the couch or in the garage or in the tree house for all I care; but if you don’t check your attitude, I’ll send you back to your apartment right now! Have some gratitude for the security you’ve been offered. Need I remind you that tomorrow we’re burying our father? Either stop the bickering or go home.” I turned on my heel and headed down the hall. Without checking, I knew Lucy was right behind me, suitcase in hand.