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And suddenly, I know without a doubt that any further resistance is futile. I grew up in a cult where the law was obedience or death. That same feeling is present here now. I am entirely at Rico’s mercy, and he will kill me if I refuse to follow his orders.
While keeping my eyes on his, I slowly lower myself to my knees before him.
The gun moves with me, staying pressed against my forehead.
“I am going to ask you some questions,” he declares. “And you are going to answer them. If you refuse to answer even one question, I will shoot you in the head. If you lie, I will shoot you in the head. But if you answer all of my questions truthfully, Imightlet you live. If you don’t, Iwillkill you. Do you understand?”
Looking up into his merciless face, I can tell that he means every word. If I don’t cooperate, he will put a bullet in my brain and then wash his hands of me and be done with it.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Good. Let’s start with an easy one. What’s your name?”
“Isabella Johnson.”
An exasperated sigh rips from his chest, and I swear I can almost see regret flash across his face as his finger starts squeezing the trigger.
“Wait!” I yell, yanking up my hands and holding them up in an appeasing gesture. “I’m not lying. I—”
“Not the name you’re using right now,” he growls, pushing the barrel a little harder against my forehead but thankfully easing his finger back from the trigger. “Your real name.”
“I don’t know.” I stare up at him while a suddenly overwhelming feeling of desperation pulses inside my chest. Because I want to live. By all the gods in all religions, I desperately want to live. So this time, I answer with the full truth. “I don’t have one.”
His dark brows furrow. “What do you mean you don’t have one?”
“It’s… complicated. And kind of a long story.”
“We have nothing but time.”
“I was born into a cult called the Hands of Peace.”
He scoffs, because he knows just as well as I do that they bring anything but peace.
“Every member of the cult is raised and trained to be a ghost. A nameless, faceless assassin who changes identity depending on what each mission requires. So I’ve had hundreds of names over the years. When I was young, they changed my name very frequently so that I wouldn’t grow too attached to one. When we’re older, we can keep one for about a year at most.”
“What about your parents? Didn’t they at least call you something?”
“I don’t know who they are. They’re members of the cult, that much I know. But every child is raised by a whole bunch of people, so I don’t know which two members it is. Again, so that we won’t form any attachment to anyone.”
For a fraction of a second, some kind of emotion flickers in his eyes. But it’s gone so fast that I can’t even begin to interpret it before that merciless expression is back again.
“AndIsabellais…?” he demands.
“It’s the name I chose for myself after I escaped from the cult,” I reply.
He is silent for a while, as if processing the information.
Across the clearing, some branches rustle and a bird flaps away as a strong wind sweeps through the forest. There is a small twig digging into my shin where I’m kneeling. But I can’t even feel it. All I can feel is the cold metal barrel of Rico’s gun against my forehead, and all I can see is those hard brown eyes staring me down.
“Why did you come to our house to kill us that night?” he asks eventually.
I’m not sure if he meansyouas in the Hands of Peace or as in me specifically, so I answer, “I, along with two other members, were there because we had been given a mission by the Master. That’s what the leader of the cult is called,” I add. “A mission to wipe out your entire family.”
His jaw clenches. “Why?”
“Because that’s what the Hands of Peace do. They travel the country and eliminate families who have grown too powerful. It’s their whole mission statement. To bring peace to the country by making sure that no single family grows so powerful that it would jeopardize democratic rule. And your family, the Morelli family, is incredibly powerful. So we were given a mission to kill you and your parents so that Federico Morelli wouldn’t have any direct heirs to his empire.”
Rage burns in his eyes now. “That’s it? You killed my parents for… forthat? To end our bloodline in order topreserve democracy.” He practically spits the words.
