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    I thought about what Daniel said for hours afterwards. I couldn't get it out of my mind. I mean, where was the freedom in G.U.A.R.D.? Did all the agents live in such tight restrictions? Would I have to live like that?

A dentist came by the next day and determined I was around fifteen or sixteen. It irked me that I couldn't know exactly, and it made me hate my situation all the more. But I didn't voice anything.

The doctors X-rayed me again to see how I was recovering, and a few hours later, Alaska came in with a big grin. In her hand, she held a packet of crackers. I instantly sat up, eyes alert. She smirked and sat on the edge of my bed.

"The doctors okayed it. You are officially allowed to eat."

The woman ripped the packet open and carefully placed a cracker in my hand. I took a small nibble from it. Saltiness sprang into my mouth. With a smile, I began to gobble down the rest, but Alaska placed a hand on mine.

"Ah, not too fast. You might throw up if you eat too quickly."

Reluctantly, I made myself chew and swallow before taking the next bite. It tasted so good! All too soon, Alaska took the crackers away and left. I hated to admit that I was pretty much full; I would've done anything for just one more taste. Licking the salt off my lips and fingers, I felt the warm satisfaction of having a full stomach. My eyes drooped a little, and I curled back on my bed, sighing contentedly. Soon, I was fast asleep.

  ----  

As the week went on, Alaska gave me some more clothes that the agency supplied. Most of it consisted of dark clothes, but they were comfortable, so I didn't care that much. My nurse also decreased my pain and nausea meds, which made me feel worse, but helped me not rely on the medicine as much. I could move around better, and my drinking and eating habits improved tremendously—with a lot of help from Alaska. We developed a love-hate relationship.

Daniel came by again. And again. And again. Most of our conversations consisted of I wondering how to get information out of him—mainly about the memory-erasing project. But how on Earth was I supposed to do it? Could I just ask? But if that was the wrong move, and he really wasn't supposed to talk to me about it, I didn't want him to just clamp up and stop speaking to me. So I continued playing along. The deceit felt strange, as if a foreign language on my tongue, though it soon became natural. Almost too natural.

Even despite all these, though, I found myself enjoying having someone to talk to. I didn't consider him a friend. Not yet. But an acquaintance.

He told me a lot of things. Like how trainees, after they completed their time in a station, got a mentor. For a youth, typically until they turned twenty-one; but adults usually only had mentors for about one or two years. It was a tentative timeline, considering each agent was different. Daniel said he was nineteen.

"How old is Leslie?" I had asked.

He smirked a little. "She's only seventeen. Her mentor is Dr. Eve, if you haven't already guessed."

I hadn't.

He said Base 12 had fifty floors. The first was reserved for the leaders, but the rest contained dorms, offices, training rooms, garages, and a runway on top for pilots and their jets. Daniel told me he hoped to give me a tour of the base once I was released.

The more I learned, the more I understood that G.U.A.R.D. was an extremely efficient agency, even with its flaws. But I also understood that it was incredibly secret, which made me increasingly frustrated.

And then, one day, without any explanation, Daniel stopped coming. It didn't happen gradually or anything. He just stopped. I waited three days for a visit, boredom overcoming all my senses. But nothing happened.

G.U.A.R.D. Book #3: RecusantWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu