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11
The arrestand removal of my person from Sebastian’s apartment passed in a blur. They didn’t even allow me to change.
The cell they thrust me into reminded me of my cubicle in the Caves. Gray concrete all around, but with no lightstrip or even a bed. Having enjoyed luxury, I felt the loss acutely.
I couldn’t tell how much time passed before noise outside my door alerted me to someone’s arrival. The door opened with a clank and a creak.
I remained huddled on the floor, hugging my knees, utterly miserable.
“Leave us.” Despite the curtness, I recognized Sebastian’s voice.
“But, sir—”
“Now.” The word emerged flat and commanding.
Footsteps receded, and still I was afraid to look. He radiated anger. He hated me. It hurt more than expected.
He broke the silence. “How long have you been working with the terrorists? Did they recruit you in the habitat, or after your arrival on the surface?”
What? In shock, I lifted my head. “I’m not working with them.”
“Then how did this end up in your waste receptacle with your prints and DNA all over it?” He held up the sealed clear cube with the little box inside.
I cringed. “I can explain.”
“Oh, you most definitely will, starting with who gave this to you.”
My mouth opened and shut. I didn’t know what to say. If I told him about Silas, he’d be angry I’d said nothing before. If I didn’t, he’d also be angry.
I took too long to reply.
In one stride, he reached out and grabbed me. Dragging me upward, he gave me a shake. “Why, Jasinda? I did nothing but treat you with respect and kindness. Why try and kill me?”
“I didn’t.” My reply burst from me. “Why do you think I threw out the box? I didn’t want you to come to harm.”
“If that were true, you would have told me about it.”
“I didn’t know how. So instead, I got rid of it.”
“Who gave you the box?” A low ominous tone.
My shoulders slumped. “A man named Silas.”
“How do you know him?”
“I don’t, really. I first saw him during the transport attack. He’s the fifth terrorist you’ve been looking for.”
“Was that the only time?”
I couldn’t hold his gaze. I stared at the floor. “No.”
He thrust me from him hard enough that my back hit the wall. But I didn’t complain. He had a right to his ire. I’d betrayed him.
“How long have you been working with the terrorist?”
“Never.”
“You just admitted to seeing him multiple times.”
