Page 170 of The Amber Sunburst

“Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

When Kallias finally meets his eyes, Alexander almost flinches at how distant they are. It looks like his soul has flown from his body, leaving only a beautiful husk behind.

“Kallias—”

“I hate you,” Kallias says. Not fondly or in heated anger. He says it like it’s true.

“Oh yeah?” Alexander tries to joke.

“Yes.”

Alexander continues to walk and, true to form, doesn’t leave well enough alone.

“I don’t hate you,” he says.

“I know,” Kallias sighs, the first ounce of emotion Alexander has seen from him in the tunnels.

“Oh, good,” Alexander says. Then he opens his mouth again to make what might be the greatest mistake of his life. It’s awful and stupid and he can’t help it. For some reason it feels like this might be his last chance. “I think I might lo⁠—”

Kallias cuts him off. “The door,” he says, and yes—there in the distance—an imposing metal door.

Alexander wishes that door could have waited a second so he could finally get those stupid three words out of his mouth.

They break into a jog toward the exit. When Alexander glances over, Kallias looks like he’s being marched to the guillotine and he doesn’t have it in him to fight anymore.

Alexander doesn’t know how to make it better.

I love you, he says in his head, hoping maybe Kallias will hear.

Once the door is only steps away, he puts his worries out of his mind. He can practically feel the California breeze in his hair, hear the sound of the gentle waves, relish the warmth of the boy he’ll always love and the life he’ll always want.

And then everything comes to a screeching halt.

“Where do you think you’re going, boys?” a voice asks behind him, and just by the way Kallias tenses, Alexander knows who it is: The Educator.

Alexander barely contains a groan of frustration, but he still wants to scream and cry and stomp on the ground like a child. Because this should have gone without a hitch. It was going without a hitch!

He breathes through his anger. There’s only one thing to do now. He turns on his charm offensive and spins around to face the Educator.

“Fancy meeting you here, sir,” he smiles, but the intensity with which the Educator stares at him shocks him silent. It’s hatred—real, personal hatred—in the Educator’s eyes. But Alexander has never even spoken to this man before.

The intensity doesn’t melt even when his lips form a saccharine smile. “Isn’t it quite, Mr. Alexander Jameson.”

For a moment it doesn’t register that the Educator has just said his full name, first and last. And then his heart sinks.

“Son of James Jobson and Miriam Helena, both deceased. Brother to Cain Jameson, though he couldn’t wait to get you out of his hair, I’m sure.”

Every syllable of his family’s name coming out of this unsettling man’s mouth is a punch in the gut.

“What?”

“You are a very interesting young man, Mr. Jameson. Because I find it hard to believe that you didn’t notice that everything was just a little too easy. That our world melted around you and allowed you to slip in unnoticed. That your plans managed to go just your way. But you basked in purposeful naivete so absolute that I was almost impressed. How can someone so smart be so, so stupid. And now you have the nerve to act surprised when all of this—” he gestures casually to the door “—doesn’t work out how you planned.”

It must have been Lazarus. He told the Council everything and led them to their deaths. Alexander knew they shouldn’t have trusted him, the little rat⁠—

“I noticed you on our surveillance cameras the second you washed up on the beach. I let you through the walls. I brought you to the Academy.”

“Why?”