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Prudencia looks like she might say something, but instead she locks her arm with Emil’s and they walk into the house.
I don’t care if they think I have a bad attitude. I get to be upset, for star’s sake.
I carry my own bag inside. There are pictures everywhere of Wesley, Ruth, and Esther from the walls to the table with the key bowl. Even the clock’s face is a photo of Esther as a newborn. There’s a piano by the sliding glass doors and a TV mounted above the fireplace. Emil, Prudencia, and Iris are awkwardly gathered around the cozy living room, unsure where to go.
“What’s the setup?” Iris asks.
“We have three bedrooms,” Wesley says in a hushed voice with Esther asleep in his arms. “I’m moving all of Esther’s stuff into our room. So Iris and Prudencia in one room and Emil and Brighton in the other? We have some air mattresses we can blow up.”
“I’ll take the couch,” Emil says.
“I’ll take the other,” Prudencia says and turns to Iris. “I want to give you some space if that’s okay.”
Iris gives the slightest nod. She checks her watch. “Sunstar’s announcement is in thirty minutes. Let’s meet out here then.”
The guest room is simple. Twin-sized bed, private bathroom, and a desk with a view of the bay. Emil would’ve been in a sleeping bag on the floor if he weren’t so frustrated with me. I charge my laptop, wanting to do some research on golden-strand hydras, but I spend the next twenty minutes propped up against the toilet, vomiting so much of this disgusting bile that my throat burns. Even though I’m tempted to stay in and rest, I wash up because I want to be with everyone else as they watch Sunstar’s announcement. I missed enough when I was asleep for days. I’m not part of the team anymore, but I’m still going to have a say as long as I’m here. Everyone is already situated, and Prudencia creates some space for me on the couch, but I drag a chair from the wooden dining table and sit next to Ruth.
We watch Sunstar take the stage in a town hall meeting with hundreds in the audience. She addresses that this country is indeed having an issue with gleamcrafters abusing their powers, especially with the rise of specters, but she has issues with how the enforcers have been operating. Enforcers have been trusted to defend citizens from gleam abusers, and instead, they have been abusing their authoritative power against innocent gleamcrafters. Thankfully she has a proposition—the Luminary Union, an official government task force comprised of some of the greatest protectors in every city. The True Lighters in Chicago. The First Sparrows in Omaha. The Arrowed Souls in Dallas. The Sunbeams in Phoenix. The Zoom Force in Lexington. The Shadow Belles in New Orleans. There’s a pause before she announces the Spell Walkers in New York and there’s an immediate mix of cheers and boos. She closes her statement by saying that in order to create a bright future, they need to rebuild the programs in place to protect this country, and that by uniting all of these groups under the watchful eye of the government, she believes we can all beat back the darkness.
“Do you think this is going to work?” Ruth asks as she turns off the TV.
“It’s a dream some may have been open to before the Blackout,” Wesley says. “Luna ruined all chances of people treating us with sympathy.”
“If we can’t make that dream come true, good luck enjoying this home you’re building for yourself,” Iris says as she gets up, pacing. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if we had a government that actually cared about us. I could have some help looking for Eva and Carolina. I wouldn’t have to ask for tips online or try to recruit trackers or hit the streets myself. But no, they are cut off from us because of a crime that we’re n
ot even responsible for!” She slams her fist down on the dining table, snapping it in half. She’s the shortest person in the room and with one punch she proves herself the strongest. Esther begins crying from the other room. “Sorry,” Iris says as she goes out into the backyard.
“She apologizing for breaking our table or waking up Esther?” Wesley asks.
“Baby or friend?” Ruth asks, ignoring his joke.
“I’ll take Esther for a run,” he says. Off Ruth’s look, he adds, “A light jog.”
I’m left sitting there with Emil and Prudencia. Emil manually turns on the fireplace and watches the fire lick away at the logs. Prudencia stretches across the couch she’s claimed as her own. I go back into my room, even though I don’t really want to be alone right now. I bring my laptop into bed and try to distract myself with some YouTube videos, but all I really want to do is form some kind of plan that will get the Blood Casters to at least put us out of misery as to whether or not Ma is even alive.
I don’t exactly have that blood-and-bones feeling like usual, but I suspect I have another major reset in my life—both of my parents are dead.
Seventeen
Propaganda
NESS
For the past couple days, I’ve been reading scripts, but not for anything I’m excited to star in. The campaign manager, Roslyn Fox, thought it would be a great strategy to counter Brighton’s Spell Walkers of New York series with videos of our own. The Senator and Bishop have signed off on the scripts that will paint celestials as walking weapons that need to be controlled—all thanks to the shifting power that was supposed to help me reboot my life.
I’ve been propped in front of the camera for over twelve hours filming anti-celestial videos. I’m locked away in the attic that’s been converted into a studio with only Roslyn for company. She looks murderous as she reviews our most recent take.
She has the same tight black bun she’s been wearing since she was brought onto the Senator’s staff one year after Mom was killed. Black eyeliner she probably put on for the Senator is smudging around her icy-blue eyes. She curses under her breath.
I don’t have to be good at reading people to know she hates me.
We worked closely together back when I was more compliant because she wrote some of the speeches I delivered at the youth conferences she would book for me. One night I thanked her for giving me all these stages to release my anger and grief. Then she overstepped by inviting me to always talk to her about my feelings like I would’ve with Mom. I had the Senator shut that down immediately because no one was ever going to replace my mother. It was all business from there on out with Roslyn.
I’m sure she was thrilled when she thought I actually died in the Blackout. My resurrection has probably been really hard on her. I wish I’d been around when the Senator broke the news.
The difference between working with Roslyn now from before is that this time I know all the lines she’s feeding me are lies. I won’t be surprised if she keeps me going past midnight. I’ve been fed twice, but during those breaks I had to watch footage of Congresswoman Sunstar’s staff to study their behavior and appearances so I can pose as them. But mostly I’ve been shifting into people who don’t even exist. I’m given faces of randoms around the country and build a look. Someone’s yellow teeth with someone else’s lips with someone else’s button nose with someone else’s brown eyes with someone else’s red buzz cut.
Then I lie about how celestials have ruined my life.
