[continued]
Serrano:Of course it wasn’t easy. Losing both Jake and my daughter within a year of each other.
Quinn:And yet you didn’t request leave.
Serrano:I’m not someone who wallows in grief, Captain. I combat it by distracting myself. By working. By looking forward.
Quinn:You chose not to hold a service for your child, yet you held one for your husband.
Serrano:Jake received a Command funeral, a requirement for all soldiers of his rank.
Quinn:It’s interesting.
Serrano:What is?
Quinn:You say his name. Often. You don’t say hers—your daughter. Stella, was it?
Serrano:Yes.
Quinn:Did you love your daughter, Colonel?
Serrano:What kind of question is that? Of course I loved my daughter.
Quinn:Was she Aberrant?
Serrano:As far as I know, no. But she was only five years old. Perhaps she would’ve manifested abilities as she got older.
Quinn:What was she like?
Serrano:She was…beautiful. She had the most beautiful eyes. Jake said she had my eyes, but hers were so much brighter, so full of wisdom. She was a child and sometimes when I looked into those eyes, I felt like she knew far more about this world, about life, than I ever could. And she was brave. Nothing scared her. Ever. Things that made other children cry or scream in terror? She didn’t even flinch. Not my daughter. My daughter was a force to be reckoned with. She was going to do incredible things.
Quinn:Why won’t you say her name, Colonel?
Chapter 48
Time moves forward, as it does, and before I know it, it’s the middle of summer. It amazes me that it’s been more than eight months since I got to the Dagger. When Gray had asked if I was ready for war before I boarded that helicopter, I expected we’d immediately race into battle, bombing the Point, storming the Capitol, taking down Travis and the entire Company.
Turns out war moves very, very slowly. All the pieces need to be in place. All the little pawns arranged while the kings and queens and knights formulate their bigger plans.
Did I mention how much I despise chess?
It’s been three months since somebody slipped heartroot in my drink, but I’m no closer to figuring out who it was. I asked Hawkins the other day if it’s possible to incite the truth out of someone. Thought I could walk around the Dagger, harnessing gold and inciting random people to tell me whether they tried to kill me, but he said that as far as he knows, it’s not possible.
“Have you tried?” I challenged, and he rolled his eyes and said, “Of course.” He proceeded to explain that even if it “worked,” there was no way to confirm their dishonesty. You could incite someone to speak, but that didn’t mean they’d speak the truth.
This morning, as I’m on my way to the target range, Adrienne summons me via telepathy to the war room. I expect to find the rest of the Authority there, but she’s alone, hip propped against the table, red hair loose and hovering at her shoulders.
“I need you on security tonight,” she says.
“For a mission?”
She nods. “I have a meeting in the wards.”
“With who?”
“You don’t have the clearance for that. All I require is your eye and your rifle.”
“Who’s the transport?”
