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I grind my teeth together so hard my jaw hurts. “For certain? A day.”
“How long have you had suspicions?”
“Since she came here. I just...I don’t trust Roth.”
“Trusting Roth has nothing to do with your job. Your orders are orders, and you obey them, even if you disagree.” He’s given me this lecture before. I hated it then, and as if sensing my protest, he closes the distance between us, hissing. “This is important, Shy. Do you remember what I told you?”
You might think you’re standing up for something grand, but when you do it wrong, it’s not you who will suffer for your actions; it’s the people you love.
I remember.
And he is right. I lost Lily and she suffered, again and again. Lily is dead in a way that means she is never, ever coming back—not through reincarnation, even. It feels like someone’s smashing my chest with a sledgehammer. Shame and embarrassment are there, too, undercurrents heating my skin.
“Think for a moment what we could have helped prevent if only you'd have told us about Anora.”
Nothing! I want to scream at him. You could have prevented nothing because Anora's not the one who killed Lily and she's not the one who resurrected her.
“What could you have prevented?” I ask bitterly, pushing myself off the gurney. “What could you have done better?”
For a moment, I hate him and I want to make him feel it.
“I'm never good enough for you. I'm not good enough for anyone. The only reason Roth chose to promote me to Tracker is because of Anora. I know you didn't think I was ready—well, guess what, you were right. I screwed up.”
“You're wrong,” my dad says. His voice settles on me like snow, making me shiver.
“Who are you to tell me I'm wrong? What have you done to prove me otherwise? Have you been home the last two months? When was the last time you sat down to dinner with me and Mom? You don't know? I do—it was August!”
“There are things I have to do here, Shy. Things you don't understand right now—”
“Try me, Dad!” I yell and then beg, “Trust me.”
But he doesn't. He doesn't say a word. Just looks as me with those eyes—my eyes. I hate it.
“Forget this.”
As I go to leave, he says. “I do trust you and I believe you were ready long before you were promoted, but don't think for a second I didn't know what Roth was doing when he chose you to track the Eurydice.”
I stop and face him.
“What are you saying?”
Dad stares for a moment, as if trying to communicate wordlessly. Funny, I know what he’s saying: You know exactly what I’m talking about. “We know Jacobi hacks the Archive, Shy. We know he entered the Records. I’m assuming he told you what he found.”
He’s talking about mine and Anora’s past lives.
“You knew and you didn't tell me?”
My father puts his hands up, as if he's afraid this will send me over the edge, and for a moment, I think it might, but instead I realize I want someone to know. Someone who isn't Jacobi or Natalie. Someone like my dad. Because, for Charon’s sake...I can’t do this on my own.
“My sixteen-year-old son's—lover—from a past life reincarnated and just so happens to be the Eurydice.” Never mind. This is the worst. I take it back—I don't want him to know anything. “What do you expect from me? I knew what Roth would do when he found out, and I was right. You think I wanted my spoiled superior to use my son?”
“But...you could have told me!”
Or at least tried to warn me in subtle ways. Instead, all he does is make me feel inferior and keep me from my assignments...
Oh.
We stare at each other for a long moment. Then he says, “I guess it was too much to hope you'd keep your distance from the Eurydice, given she's a human and you're Valryn.”
