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And then the president himself found me with Emmy … burying the body of her husband in her goddamn yard. The guards dragged me all the way back to my room and locked me inside.
What’s going to happen to Noah? To Emmy? To me?
The president isn’t going to take this lightly. Will he make an example out of me to quell the people’s rage and subdue them once again?
My whole body begins to tremble, and I sink down to the floor in front of the door.
What am I going to do? And does he know my mother is involved too?
I don’t want her to die because of me.
Suddenly, someone pries at the lock, and I immediately crawl away.
A few seconds later, the door opens. Agatha’s head peeks in. “The president requests your presence.”
I get up from the floor and walk down the stairs with her. “Agatha, do you know where Noah is?”
She shakes her head.
I can’t ask her about Emmy because she doesn’t know her.
“What about my mother?” I ask instead. “Do you know where she is?”
She looks at me with concern in her eyes. “The president locked her in her room. I don’t know why, so don’t ask me.”
I get that she doesn’t want to be involved. Who does when you know what’s at stake? But that doesn’t make it any less troubling. Why would the president lock my mother up in her room, unless … he knew what she’s been up to.
My heart begins to palpitate.
We go underneath the staircase toward the auditorium. Sweat drips down my back as the big door opens up.
“In there,” Agatha says, smiling gently. “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” I reply, before stepping inside.
The president sits on his throne in front of a room filled with hundreds of people. And they’re all looking at me.
The air is knocked out of my lungs. A couple of those people were fighting along with me in the dining hut. Did the President bring them all here to witness my demise?
Even Holly’s there, with a panicky look on her face, as though she’s begging me not to reveal that she was helping Emmy deal with her husband. She looks terrified … just as terrified as I feel deep down in my heart.
My courage sinks into my shoes as I step forward to face my father’s wrath.
The look on his face is thunderous as if he could murder all of them and not blink even once.
“Stop,” he barks, and I immediately cease walking.
I’m in the middle of the room, right in front of his throne. Everyone’s glaring at me, including him. “I know you started that riot in the dining hut,” he says.
“I was—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He raises his hand. “You’ve incited the people. Put them up against each other. And for what? Lies!” His voice is so loud it feels as though it could blow me over. He leans forward in his throne. “You think you could get away with that?”
I’ve never felt this tiny, this humiliated. “No, I—”
“You’re my daughter. My only daughter. I thought you were going to be a good girl. That you and Noah understood what our community was about,” he says.
Noah.
His name being called out is enough to make me look around in search for him, but he’s nowhere in the crowd. Where did they take him?
“But it seems you two are hardheaded and as stubborn as your own fathers.” President Lawrence clears his throat. “And it seems I need to teach you all a lesson about defying the rules.”
Suddenly, the doors in the back open, and everyone turns around in their seat.
The blinding light makes me cover my eyes for a second, but when I remove my hand, my eyes widen.
Outside are two makeshift gallows … and two people standing on top with bags over their heads.
My heart stops beating.
Noah … and Emmy?
Chapter 25
Natalie
I scream out loud. “NO!”
“Silence!” my father barks back at me.
The entire room is on edge, including me.
“Is that … Noah and Emmy?” I ask, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“You did this. You did this to yourself,” he hisses.
“Please, don’t do this. He’s your son-in-law,” I plead. “And Emmy’s innocent.”
“Noah made a vow and broke it. Do you know how serious vows are? They are punishable by death!” he growls. “And I don’t care if it’s my son-in-law, a helper, or my own wife. If they don’t follow the rules, they will be punished. That is our system, and those are the rules.”
“But you can bend the rules,” I say.
“If I don’t obey the rules, then who will?” He places his hand against his chin and leans down on his knees. “Do you think this is easy for me? These are my followers. I love my people. But the rules must always be followed. One of them has to die.”
