“My mom snuck onto the campus, unleashing all sorts of pandemonium for me because they caught me talking to her,” I said, dabbing at my nose with my sleeve. It came back with droplets of blood. “Now I’m under suspicion of betraying the Directorate.”
“You know,” he said after a pause, “you could come with me.”
“I said ‘don’t say it’.” I dabbed again. The blood had started to dry and crust on my upper lip. My eyes were red, though not from excess crying, because I’d barely shed more than a single tear. More likely from restraining it. “I’m in enough trouble right now without adding another reason to think I’m a traitor. God knows what the investigator would think about this conversation if he heard it.”
“Investigator?” Reed cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah,” I said. “They’re trying to root out the spy.”
“And they were questioning you because you knew who this person was?” He eyed me, and I saw a little cold fire in his eyes, and caught it in his tone.
I turned to him and gave him a patronizing look. “My mom is the Directorate’s Public Enemy Number Two right now, and I almost slept with the closest thing to a face we have for their Public Enemy Number One.”
“I agree that gives you a slight air of suspicion—”
“Air?” I snorted and turned back to the mirrored wall, pushing at a scabbed cut in my eyebrow. “Reed, I think that qualifies as a cloud of suspicion, but a big one, like the kind you’d find surrounding a hurricane.”
He didn’t answer, and the elevator chimed as the doors slid open, revealing the marbled floors of the lobby and a darkening sky beyond the glass windows and doors at the front of the building. “Maybe,” he conceded, “but I don’t buy this idea that you’re betraying the Directorate.”
“Neither do Ariadne and Old Man Winter, apparently,” I said as I stepped out into the open lobby. “But I wouldn’t blame them for at least harboring some suspicions because of it.”
“Don’t let it get you down,” he said with a muted smile and put a hand on my shoulder, shaking me slightly.
I looked at his hand as though it were contaminated and he froze. “Thanks, dude,” I said sarcastically. “I can tell you totally mean that, bro.” His eyes widened, and he stammered. “Sorry,” I said. “I probably came on a little strong with that one. I just meant…” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I appreciate you trying to cheer me up.”
“Yeah.” He kind of wobbled. “Well. Um. I will see you…when I get back from Milwaukee, I guess.”
I raised an eyebrow. “If this was a horror movie, I’d tell you to rethink that last line – it’s pretty close to ‘I’ll be right back’.” I thought about it for a second. “Actually, my life has resembled a horror movie in a few details lately. You might want to rephrase that.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said with a roll of the eyes. “But I do want to talk to you about something when we have a little more time.”
“It better not be a recruitment offer,” I said, “because if it is, I swear to you—”
“It’s not,” he said. “I’ll see ya later, okay?”
“There you go again.”
He laughed and pulled his hand back into the elevator as the doors slid shut behind him.
My walk across the campus was long. It was evening now, the sun close to setting, glaring at me from the horizon with an orange stare. I shuffled back to the dormitory building ignoring the looks I got from the few people still making their way around the campus. It was worse when I entered the building; dinner was wrapping up and I caught stares and gazes from a dozen people, none of whom I really knew. The whispers were mostly inaudible but totally comprehensible; and I didn’t even bother to enter the cafeteria where the smaller dinner crowd could have an opportunity to talk about me while I sat by myself and pretended to ignore it. I was edgy enough I might not have pretended, actually, and the last thing I needed was to get into a fight with someone right now.
The air conditioner was working overtime in the hallway to my room, blowing cold air out of the overhead vents as I walked down the hall, windows to the sunset-tinged campus on one side and plain white walls on the other. I was so hungry that I felt my mouth drool at the smell of food from the cafeteria, but I knew I’d have to be contented with whatever snacks I had in my room. The aroma of beef told me they were having that oh-so-rare treat, prime rib, but there was no way I was going to brave the lunacy of the crowds tonight, even for that. Besides, I could still hear the crowds in the cafeteria, and they didn’t sound quiet: they were boisterous, there was discussion (probably about me), and I wanted no part of it.
I opened the door to my room, which, as usual, was unlocked. I had grown used to the small print of S. Nealon on the door’s name plate, as though anyone who didn’t know couldn’t just look at the directory in the main hall entry to the dorm building. I didn’t have anything worth stealing, just the Directorate-issued stuff that everyone else had in their rooms, so I usually didn’t bother locking the door. Part of the reasoning for that was because I really sucked at keeping track of things like keys, so I didn’t want to have to carry a key with me all the time just so I could lose it every day.
I came in and shut the door behind me, letting the back of my head thud against it. My day had consisted of waking up in the medical unit, telling my bosses (and inadvertently my ex-boyfriend) that I’d nearly slept with the enemy, getting to see one of my colleagues vent his righteous rage against my mother, getting interrogated by my psychiatrist (sad that I need one of those) then an actual interrogator (sadder that I’d need one of those); then I capped everything off by getting insulted by my mother, restrained by my co-workers, perp-walked in front of everyone I know, and then lectured by a woman who acts more like my mother than the real one. Best. Day. Ever.
Oh, and Kat was still missing. Joy. I bet she had a better day than me. I frowned and thought of the box. Maybe not.
I flipped the light after standing there for a minute in the dark, and I took my first uneasy steps toward the bed. I stopped, and cocked my head, curious, at a small object lying on the bedspread. I took a few steps forward and bent over to take a closer peek.
It was a watch. A gold band with links gave way to a clasp, and the face was kind of pearlescent, with a rainbow sheen that refracted in the light as I picked it up. The numbers on the face were roman numerals. At the three o’clock position was a number for the day, and the second hand was ticking along, counting out each moment as I stared at it. There was a shred of paper threaded beneath the band, and I looked to my desk; it was from the pad there, torn out, and something had been written on it. I pulled it out and opened it at the fold, blinking as the words registered in my mind, sticking there, sending my head into an even worse spin than it had already been in.
Your father would want you to have this.
Chapter 11
I lay down on my bed after that, staring at the watch for hours. It had no identifying markings on it, nothing that would have told me anything about its owner save for the note. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, but in fairness it was a total scrawl, like it had been written in block print by a hand in one hell of a hurry. Which made sense, because whoever it was had been in my room uninvited, and thus subject to trouble from Directorate security if caught. So, probably my mother.
I placed the watch on my wrist and stared at it. It was huge compared to my slender arm and there was probably an inch of space in the diameter of the band. I let it spin loosely, playing with it, wondering if it was really his, and who he was. I read the note over and over. It said my father would want me to have it. Did that mean he was dead? Or somewhere he couldn’t be reached? I blinked, and I felt the stir of emotions that had dogged me all day.