Page 161 of The Amber Sunburst

Or maybe he would have done nothing and let us both rot.

“Do you not see him as your son? Does he have no right to his past?”

The Educator’s menacing laugh sucks all of the air out of the room. “He is not my son. He is my creation. And so, my dear, are you.

“But I do fear,” he continues, “that I’ve told you enough. I just wanted you to know.”

“Why?”

“Because you need to understand that I have a claim on your life before I take it.”

“You’re going to kill me?”

The Educator shrugs like it’s inconsequential. “I wish I could spare you, but you’ve been out from under my thumb for too long. I know what you’re capable of, and I can’t control you like I do your brother.”

She wants to scream at him that her brother is not being controlled. He’s rebelling, leaving, with no remorse.

All of this makes the plan more urgent. Somehow the threat of losing her life doesn’t scare her nearly as much as the idea that Kallias might have to spend the rest of his life here.

“I really am sorry, sweet Ophelia.”

She turns for the door, pulling the handle, but it’s locked.

“I wish you luck on Er’s journey.”

He grabs her by the back of her hair and yanks her away from the exit, dragging her even as she thrashes and writhes.

“Let go of me!” she screeches.

“No.”

He wraps his hands around her throat and pins her up against the far wall. She claws and scratches and kicks, but it’s no use. She’s running out of air already and the Educator is strong. He’s enjoying this.

As her vision glazes over and her strength fades, she sinks into a memory.

In the training room, with Zeno out for the night, she and Eudoxia stand face to face.

She asks how anyone as short as they are could possibly take a larger opponent.

Eudoxia smirks. “You might be small, but everyone has tiny parts of them. Fingers, toes, wrists, noses, eyes. And anything between the legs, of course.”

They both laugh.

“If they’ve got you where they want you, don’t try to fend them off with big kicks and punches. Instead, go for somewhere that seems insignificant but hurts like a bitch.”

Her whole body protests when she relaxes under the Educator’s grip. She grabs his right arm to keep it stable, then she brings her free hand up like she’s going for his face again.

Instead she finds a single finger and, holding his arm in place, jerks it away from her with a satisfying snap.

The Educator pulls back and curses, hand cradled to his chest.

“You broke it, you little slut,” he growls, charging at her again. She ducks under his charge and uses his momentum to slam his head against the wall. It makes contact with a loud thud before he crumples to the ground.

“Sleep tight, asshole,” she says before—probably gratuitously—kicking him in the head with her dainty little slipper.

Then she turns to the control board to wait for her signal.

Everyone is going to make it out of here, whether they like it or not.