Beyond the Walls

Chapter 22

"You can't be," Ruben hisses, the muscles in his neck tense. "You can't be his son, too."

Edward smiles, condensing the scar down the side of his face. Even his cloudy eye taunts. "But I am."

"How?"

The air goes static as if the world has drawn in a breath, waiting, listening.

Edward averts his gaze to me and smirks. He looks back at Ruben, eyes flashing. "My mother and Sneya had a relationship before he married your mother, Ruben. My mother fell pregnant but it's against social customs for the air to the throne to have this kind of relationship with a woman before marriage, and so, my mother was banished from the Floodgates.

"She managed to survive long enough to reach Aurelia where she had me. I was eight years old when she contracted the virus and watched her collapse in the kitchen of our apartment. She had just put some of her chocolate chip cookies in the oven. I watched her die as the cookies slowly burned and the smoke forced its way out."

Ruben waits for a beat before saying, "I'm sorry that happened to you."

Edward curls his lips into a sneer and glances at me. "So, you see, Elizabeth, watching the virus kill my mother was what sparked my determination to find a cure for it."

"If I'm honest, the most surprising thing about all this is that you and Ruben are brothers," I remark, crossing my arms.

"We are not brothers," Ruben grunts, eyes narrowing at Edward.

Edward purses his lips. "Anyway, enough soppy stories. I assume you came for something left behind, Elizabeth."

"Her name is Monet," I tell him. "What are you doing with her?"

Edward stifles a laugh. "She's currently in a holding cell. Tomorrow, she is scheduled to be given the virus as a candidate."

I draw in a breath, forcing the fear to not show on my face. "Will you accept a trade?"

"A trade?"

"Elle..." Ruben says beside me and I grab his hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Yes." I keep my gaze impassive. "Me for Monet."

"Oh, how cliché," Edward scoffs, eyes glistening. "The heroine sacrificing herself for her loved ones."

"I am no hero," I snap, crossing my arms.

"No?" He tilts his head to the side like a curious little bird. "I hear quite the contrary. Alas, I also hear the cries of those wanting your blood."

I swallow bodily. "Will you release Monet if I stay?"

This time, he laughs. "Oh, Elle. You do not get to negotiate how things work in the Red Movement."

A sharp pain bursts in my shoulder and the all-too-familiar warmth beckons me. My knees hit the linoleum floor and the room spins. Edward becomes two. Before the warmth pulls me under, I manage one more sentence, to Aston and Ruben. "Find her!" My head throbs. "Take her home."

---

Red. It spills from her head. The crack of the bullet ricochets in my skull and her final cry sinks into my bones. Claws dig into my ribs, ripping them apart and tearing my heart from the arteries. Nothing is left. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. The Tranq pulled the trigger but the bullet was there because of me. My sister broke the law to keep me fed in the absence of our parents and all I did in return was bring her to her death.

Can I be forgiven for all I've done?

I hope so. I want to be.

But I don't think I deserve it.