Joan the Made (Throwbacks Series, Book 1)

Chapter 40

Someone's moving around in my room, but I can't turn away from my task. Robotically, I continue delivering CPR to Sparkle's still form. As long as I keep going, her chest keeps rising. She keeps breathing. She isn't dead until I let her be.

Harriet's arms are gentle but firm as she pulls me back.

"Not yet."

"You've been at that for too long, Joan," Harriet says. "You have to go."

I shake my head. Her words don't make sense. I just found Sparkle. I have to save her. I lean back over Sparkle's body to begin again.

Sparkle's body.

Not Sparkle. Not anymore.

She's dead.

I failed her. Again. For the last time.

I rock back on my heels as the truth spreads through my mind like a cancer. There's an ocean of tears trapped somewhere inside of me, but they'll come later. Now there are only dry gasps as I try to draw air into my lungs.

"The headmaster is looking for you, Joan," Harriet says.

I'm dizzy. The headmaster. Lexi White.

"Lexi knows about me. Maybe about all of us," I tell Harriet because the part of my mind not numb with grief knows that this is important. "We have to do a remote wipe of my phone before she finds out what's on it. Or finds my texts to you! Harriet, she'll target you. You'll be retired, like my parents warned me. Oh God, I've ruined everything."

"Marie already wiped your phone, and I'll stay in the Lab as much as possible to be safe, too," Harriet says, and her voice is gentle as ever, even though I've put her life at risk for nothing.

She leads me away from the room, away from Sparkle. I stumble, zombielike, down the stairs after Harriet. She carefully scouts ahead, pulling me along after she's sure that the headmaster isn't lurking around the corner waiting to snatch me.

Outside the dorm, the yellow car is still waiting.

Harriet grips my shoulders. "I'm going to find a safe place for Maverick to stay. As soon as he's secure, I'll find you. Justus will take care of you until then."

My eyes well with tears at her kindness. Harriet opens the door to the car, and I climb inside.

Justus is still at the wheel, and he speeds away as soon as the door closes behind me. I lose track of my surroundings as he slips onto the interlaced traffic grid. He stops in front of a shabby old apartment building and comes around to my side of the car.

"We're here," Justus says, and I hear no traces of anger in his voice for everything I've done today.

He takes my hand as we walk toward the building, and I clutch it back like it's a lifeline. The tears flow then, fast and hard, like they'll never stop. Justus pulls me to his chest and strokes my hair, his silent, warm presence anchoring me. I'm safe here, with Justus, and the effect of everything I've experienced in the past twenty-four hours overwhelms me.

Any other day, I'd shove him aside, embarrassed to be so helpless and needy, but today, I bury my face in his shirt and let him hold me. Justus leads me into the building, and we enter a tiny one-room apartment on the ground floor.

"This is one of my dad's safe houses," Justus explains. "It's untraceable. Even the chip in your head is off Strand's grid in here."

"Thank you." My voice is hoarse from all the screaming I did a few hours ago and barely audible.

Justus lays me on a small bed, and I curl on my side. He lies down next to me, his eyes intent on mine, and takes my hand in his.

"I'm so relieved you're safe," he whispers.