Whisper (Whisper #1)(43)
She inhales a wobbly breath and continues, “They call it an ‘initiation,’ but it’s more like hazing. It’s where they bring potential Speakers when they first arrive at Lengard, so they can force them into a stressful environment to see how well they adapt. The potentials are tested, mentally and physically, until they break. Usually it only takes a few days. On the rare occasion, a couple of weeks. The longest anyone has ever lasted was four months. Until you. You’re … you’re special.”
Special. That’s one word for it.
“I heard whispers about you, you know, before we ever met,” Cami says. “All of us Exodus recruits knew about you — the silent girl who wouldn’t Speak. You stayed quiet for so long that we all doubted you could even talk at all. When I learned that Landon was working with you, I knew I had to meet you. I wanted to know how anyone could survive in this place, survive Vanik, for as long as you did — and that was before I discovered you were working with him directly.”
The way she spits out Vanik’s name reminds me again that she has some kind of dark history with him. I want to find out what happened, but from my own experiences, I can already imagine what he might have done. I wonder how long Cami lasted before she “broke.”
“You weren’t what I expected at all,” Cami goes on, still lost in her memories. “I thought you’d either be terrified of me or full of anger. You should have been dangerous. Violent, even. But you were none of those things. Instead, you were amazed by chocolate chips. You helped stir pancake batter. You sat at a table and let me force-feed you enough food for an army. Then you let me comfort you after you ran to the bathroom. And we spent the rest of the day together — as friends.”
Cami reaches across and takes my hands in hers. I don’t return her grip, but I also don’t pull away.
“That was real, Jane. All that was real. No matter what else you think, please, please believe me.”
I don’t say anything — but then again, I can’t. Not without some kind of protection for my words. I’m not sure what I’d say anyway. I want to believe her. I really do.
“I went to see Uncle Rick after I left you downstairs tonight,” Cami admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “He told me everything about what he asked Landon to do. I swear I didn’t know. I mean, I knew my brother was spending time with you, and I knew it was because Uncle Rick asked him to, but I didn’t know that it was all —”
She breaks off and bites her lip, but she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, since I know exactly what she was going to say.
Fake. It was all fake.
“I know you probably think I was a part of it, too,” she says, instead. “But I promise, I wasn’t. I just wanted to be your friend. And I still do. If you’ll let me.”
I can’t talk, but now more than ever I want to communicate with her. So I do something I haven’t done in all my time at Lengard, something I’ve refused to do for fear that not only my spoken words have power. I pull my hands from hers and reach for the notepad and pen on the coffee table. I scrawl out a sentence for the first time in years, pleased when my muscle memory kicks in enough to make the words legible, and thankful that I now know nothing bad can happen unless I Speak the question:
Why didn′t you tell me?
I watch her eyes travel over the ink once, then a second time. When she looks up at me, there is a slight wrinkle between her eyebrows.
“Why didn’t I tell you?” she asks. “Do you mean about you possibly being a Speaker?”
I nod firmly, and she runs a hand through her hair.
“I know it sounds like a cop-out, but I wasn’t allowed,” she answers. “It’s against the rules. Normally, those of us in the Exodus Project aren’t supposed to have contact with potentials until they commit to the program — until they prove they can Speak. Enzo is the exception, since he can encourage newcomers to feel safe enough to reveal their powers. But your … circumstances … changed after Landon started working with you. If Vanik hadn’t nearly caused you brain damage that day, you and I never would have met the next morning. And the only reason you were allowed to move in with me was because I swore I wouldn’t say anything.”
I make a face, unhappy with her answer.
“Please believe me, Jane. I had to follow protocol. But I want you to know, I argued with Uncle Rick. I didn’t agree — I thought you deserved to be told the truth.”
She shakes her head and finishes, “It’s too late now, anyway. I can’t take back the past, Jane. But I’m hoping you’ll let me make up for it in the future.”
As much as I’m afraid to believe her, I still do. She has no reason to lie to me, not anymore. I’ve already agreed to cooperate. That gives me the confidence I need to reach out and take her hand again. The moment I do, tears well in her eyes and she gives me a tremulous smile.
“I promise I won’t keep anything from you again,” she swears. “I love my uncle and I love my brother, but I don’t agree with how they treated you. No one deserves that.”
True. But I know that to make it through the next however long amount of training with Ward, I have to move past my hurt. If he can shut me out as quickly as he did, then I can do the same to him — or at least, act as if I can. From now on, he means nothing to me. He’s a means to an end — an end where I will hopefully learn to control the monstrous power in me so that no one ever gets hurt again.