The Complex Law: Young Adult Dystopian Page-Turner (The Complex Trilogy Book 2)

by Heather Hayes

  Mother sighs. "We taught our sons not to approve of it, but we were cautious, and encouraged them to be careful when voicing their opinions as well. I think Brock will do whatever it takes to become President. Even if it means going against the way we raised him."

  "I hope not. It would help so many people if the next President changed the law about the complex."

  "You're right. It would."

  "What about my other brother, Greggory?"

  Mother sniffs. "He is the opposite of Brock. He isn't driven. He wants us to take care of him so he doesn't have to work, and what we give him is never enough. He thinks he deserves the world. He is at school now only because we told him we'd cut off all money support if he didn't go to at least a few classes a semester."

  "I don't know what a semester is. When will his schooling be done?"

  "As long as he passes all of his classes, one year."

  "Will he come back here to live with us?"

  Mother frowns. "Not if I can help it." That surprises me. My mother seems so happy to have me and my friends living with her. Why does she feel so differently about her other child?

  The boys walk out of the store just then. "We did it! See, chips!" Garth exclaims as he holds up a small brown bag.

  My mother chuckles to herself. "Those are chocolate chips. I meant corn or potato chips, but that's okay. Did they seem suspicious of you?"

  Jefrey shakes his head. "No. The woman pointed to a stand with these bags in it and said that they received a large shipment of chocolate chips by mistake and they were selling them at cost if we wanted a good deal. We took a bag and gave her all of our money, and she gave us this much back."

  Mother counts out the change. "That seems about right. It wouldn't have surprised me if she had cheated you."

  Jefrey seems confused. "Why would someone do that?"

  "Some people's goal is to get as much money as they can, even if they cheat others to get it. Could the woman tell you were twins?"

  Jefrey shakes his head. "I don't think so. She asked if we were friends or coworkers. I said ‘friends.'"

  Garth walks up to me and helps me off the bench. He holds my hand as we walk back to the house. I see my mom glance at our hands every so often. I wonder if it bothers her. It doesn't bother me. My hand has never felt so alive. It's so much better than reaching through a hole in the wall. I walk as slowly as I can so this experience doesn't have to end. Jefrey walks right behind us, glaring at the backs of our heads.

  When we get back to the house, we are shocked to see that Ernestine is gone. "Where is she?" my mother demands.

  "She said she needs to start investigating our parents," Scott says nervously. "She has two possible addresses for my parents, and she went to check them out. She said she would be back before dark."

  "She had better be."

  Well, she isn't. Our hearts sink as the sun goes down. Did someone recognize her? Are the authorities on their way now? What should we do? My mother tells the rest of my friends that they will have to go to the convenience store another day. My father leaves to go look for Ernestine as the rest of us eat our dinner in silence.

  Bam, bam, bam. We pick up our dishes and rush to the hidden room. When the door clicks into place, I hear my mother answer the outside door. "Ernestine! I could kill you! Were you seen?"

  "No one had a clue who I was, Florence. Don't get all worked up about nothing."

  "How did you know where to look?"

  "I've heard rumor about a few parents who are unhappy with the complex for taking their kids. These two I checked on today have the same light brown skin tone as Scott. Florence—are you sure we should let them out before we've finished this conversation?"

  "Yes. They've lived their lives believing that adults use them and hide important information from them on purpose. I don't want them to feel that way here."

  Click. The hidden door swings open and we all burst out, wanting to join the conversation.

  My mother gets the first word. "Ernestine, what would you like to say to Rocky, Scott, and Avra, who were so excited to go to the convenience store today?"

  Ernestine looks at Mother's frowning face, then at my three anxious friends, and frowns to herself. "I'm sorry, kids. I really thought I'd be back sooner. I'll take you tomorrow instead. Well, if the peace officer sitting outside in his car is gone by then."

  Mother rolls her eyes. "I knew it."

  Scott, of all people, speaks up first. "Did you find my parents?"

  Ernestine's face breaks out into a huge toothy smile. "Maybe. One of the dads looks a lot like you."

  Scott claps his hands together excitedly. "Ha ha! What were they like?"

  "Oh—I didn't get a chance to talk to them in person. I'm pretty sure they have an officer watching their house too. The authorities know who escaped, and who their parents are by now. When I watched them having a conversation with a peace officer, they seemed annoyed. If they are your parents, that's a good sign. I'm sure that means they want him to leave, so they can have you back." My mother glares at Ernestine who backpedals a little bit. "It might not be your parents though. Most people in town are annoyed by peace officer interrogations."

  Scott claps his hands. "I still think that's a good sign. I can't wait to meet them."

  Ernestine pulls off her fake chin. "We're getting close, Scott. Be patient."

  My mother stomps her foot. "Stop encouraging this, Ernestine. We need to stay put and do our research for now. After a few weeks, I'm sure the peace officers will tire of watching houses with nothing going on."

  "But I was fine!"

  "Why were you back so late then? You had a hard time dodging all the officers in town, didn't you?"

  Ernestine's excitement drains from her face. "Fine, we'll do some research for a while. You kids prepare yourselves for some long, boring days."

  Avra clears her throat. "I don't think finding my parents is boring."

  My mother gives Avra a one-armed hug. "Of course, you don't, my dear. I'm sure we'll find all kinds of interesting information about them."

  "I can't wait," she says longingly.

  Ernestine yawns and tousles Rocky's bleached head. "It's been a long day, kids. Let's get some shut-eye." We all mumble our agreement.

  As we move toward the bedrooms, my mother stops Garth and me in our tracks. I let go of his warm hand reluctantly as my mother links arms with him. "Garth, you need to have your ear stitches cleaned." He shoots me a cute smile before he ascends the stairs with my mother.

  On the way to my room, Jefrey stops me. He is standing uncomfortably close. "Elira, do you want to practice counting money with me?"

  "Actually, I..."

  "Please?"

  "Uh, only for a few minutes."

  I walk to the table and watch Jefrey pull an envelope of money from one of the drawers in the kitchen. "Here it is."

  I look at him curiously. "How did you know where the money was?"

  "I watched your mom put it there."

  "Oh. Give me one dollar and eighty cents."

  He whips a dollar and some coins over to me in no time flat. "Am I right?"

  "Yes. Good job. Your turn."

  "Give me nine dollars and five cents."

  I count out every dollar from the envelope which only adds up to eight and then count the coins which add up to 105 cents. "How did you know that there was exactly nine dollars and five cents in the envelope?"

  Jefrey grins mischievously. "I don't know, lucky guess."

  I frown at him. "Right."

  "Why are you so mad at me?"

  I sigh, "Why do you even like me, Jefrey?"

  "You're beautiful."

  "What else do you like?"


  "Uh, well," he struggles to come up with something. "That dress is stunning on you."

  "There's a lot more to me than my looks. I hope you have more substance than that." I get up and go to my room despite Jefrey's protests.

  Chapter 7

  "Avra, do you have any idea which of these things is a razor?" I ask as I open and close drawers in the bathroom the next morning.

  "I have no idea."

  I scratch my head. "Do you know what a razor does?"

  "Nope."

  "I think it has something to do with legs. My mom is ashamed of my legs. If I figure out which of these things is a razor, it will help my legs look better, I think."

  Knock knock. Avra opens the door and finds my mom standing there. "Hello, girls. I was wondering if you wanted help learning about your new clothes and hygiene products."

  I wrap my robe around me tighter as I approach my beautiful mother. "I want to learn about razors."

  Mother looks at my legs and barely hides her dismay. "I would be happy to help you, Elira."

  Mother takes us into the bathroom and shows us what a razor and shaving cream are. I love the fluffy texture of the shaving cream and am amazed at how smooth my leg is after I glide a purple razor along it.

  "Do all women take the hair off their legs out here?" Avra asks.

  My mother tilts her head to the side as she thinks about that. "No, not all, but the women I associate with do."

  "I like it," I say as I rub my hands up and down my legs over and over again.

  Avra looks at my mom sheepishly. "Will you help me, Miss Florence?"

  "Just Florence, Avra. Absolutely. Choose a different colored razor from Elira's so you don't mix them up."

  Avra picks a pink razor and gets just as much delight out of the smoothness of her legs as I do.

  "I would suggest shaving your legs before wearing a dress or shorts. Come into the closet and I'll show you what I'm talking about." We follow my mom into the closet and look at the dresses, skirts, and shorts of varying lengths that she shows us.

  "Most women wear dresses for special occasions. The skirts and shorts are for casual occasions. These pants are casual too. Those pants over there are dress pants, so they are worn on special occasions."

  My head is spinning. How am I supposed to know how dressy I'm supposed to be? "When is the next special occasion?"

  My mother slowly sets the pair of high heels she's holding on the shoe shelf and sniffs. "I wish you could go to church with us each Sunday morning in a dress and have lunch with my friends every first Friday, but for now, you won't be going anywhere that requires dressy clothing."

  I don't want her to be unhappy. "Can I wear a dress just for myself around the basement?"

  My mother snaps out of her sad stupor. "Yes. You can wear whatever you want around the house. If you are doing a messy project, I'd rather you not wear silk though."

  I smile cheerfully at my mother. "Okay. Will you help me pick out something casual that people on the outside would think is pretty?"

  "Yes. Absolutely. I picked out some cute shirts for you the day Ernestine told me she was communicating with you through the complex window."

  "How did Ernestine know I was your daughter?"

  "Elira is not a very common name."

  "You knew I'd find my way here?"

  "Yes. I knew you would, darling. That shirt looks striking with those pants. I'd stick with those for today. That outfit will set the right tone in case they show up today."

  My eyes narrow in on my mom. "In case who shows up today?"

  Mother flips her hand like it doesn't matter. "Don't worry about it. Now, Avra, which color do you prefer? Pink or turquoise?"

  She taps a finger on her chin. "I like them both, but I'll try the Tur koys."

  Avra is a beautiful person. She could wear a garbage bag and still look nice. Mother smiles at my friend when she pulls on the turquoise shirt. "Both colors look stunning with your skin tone, Avra. Wear these pants with that shirt. My husband wants you to come upstairs to his office so he can listen to your heart."

  Avra's eyes fill with concern. "I usually take a special medicine for my heart. I hope he can get me some."

  "I'm sure he can. He can probably find you something newer and better too."

  I smile as Mother braids my friend's hair and helps her decide which shoes to wear. I think they both like this accessorizing stuff.

  •

  I take Rocky's bishop with my rook and smile maliciously at him.

  "Nice move," he says dejectedly.

  I see Avra come down the stairs, back from seeing my dad. I pat the spot on the couch next to me. "So, what did the doctor say?"

  Avra gives me a crooked grin. "He's your dad. You can call him Dad. He said that my heart is weaker than he expected, but he has a new heart medicine that he wants me to try. He says that his elderly patients have done really well on it."

  "You're not elderly."

  "I know, but I think the only sick people out here are elderly."

  "Oh, yeah. That's weird to me, but it makes sense."

  Mother rushes down the stairs. "Elira, I need you to come upstairs."

  I look at the chess board in front of me. I'm close to beating Rocky for once. "Do I have to come right now?"

  "Yes. You will want to meet the people who have just arrived."

  What? I am so confused. I look at my mother's happy face questioningly. "I can't meet people. They'll turn me in!"

  Rocky stands up. "It's okay, Elira. You can trust her. We can finish our game when you get back."

  Mother takes my hand and stands me up. "These people won't turn you in." Curiosity, nerves, and my mother's hand lead me up the stairs. I hope she knows what she's doing.

  I have no idea who the people staring at me are when my mother leads me into the formal sitting room. Mother lets go of my hand, puts her arm around my shoulders, and gives me a gentle squeeze instead. "Elira, these are your brothers, Brock and Greggory."

  The pictures in my brothers' rooms come rushing back to me. They don't look exactly like those pictures, but I recognize our similarities now. Brock is pleasant looking with thick light-brown hair like mine, well, before it was dyed. He is dressed in a stunning black suit. His wife is short with long blonde hair that has been carefully curled into ringlets. She is wearing an incredibly fancy blue dress and seems to have a permanent scowl on her face. Their little girl is adorable though. I haven't seen a child in person since I was one myself. Mother notices my fascination and tells me, "Joy is three years old." The little girl has light-brown hair curled into ringlets like her mom. She is dressed in a purple frilly dress which, of course, I love. When she smiles at me, I can't help but smile back. Greggory, on the other hand, looks like—a slob. He could be just as handsome as Brock, but he has let his blonde hair and beard grow out in a messy, slovenly way. His shirt is not tucked into his pants, it could use a wash, and when he looks at me, I see his lips sneer.

  My mother nervously introduces everyone. Brock's wife's name is Chantilly. The look on her face shows her distaste for the room we are in, or maybe it's me. I don't understand it. I am in complete awe at the magnificence of this house. My father walks up beside me and gives me a one-armed squeeze. It's like he's trying to tell my brothers that he claims me, no matter how strange the circumstances are.

  Greggory swaggers across the room to me and shakes my hand. His hand is strong yet smooth. He must not use them for hard labor. "I remember you and your raccoon eye from when you were a two-year-old. You were a real pain in the neck then; have you grown out of that?"

  My face heats up. How do I respond? "I—I'm not perfect, but I think so."

  Mother rushes to my aid. "She wasn't a pain in the n
eck; she was adorable. She is even more of a delight now."

  Greggory rolls his eyes. "You see that, Brock? I was right. You are just as much of a pain in the neck now as you were then, maybe more so."

  Brock approaches me and gives me a stiff hug, "Don't mind Greggory. He is afraid you will take all our parents' attention—and money. I'm sure they love us all equally though, right, Mom?"

  Mother's usual composed manner is slipping away. "I don't know how we started the first conversation as a complete family in 14 years this way, but of course we love you all equally!"

  Greggory laughs and shakes his head at me. He struts to the most comfortable chair in the room and sits down like he owns the place. I don't know what to say, so I just stand there awkwardly. Joy grabs my hand and pulls me over to the dolls she is playing with in the corner. I am happy for the distraction and follow her gladly.

  I listen as Brock talks candidly to my parents. "You know that she is a fugitive, right? They will probably put a bounty on her head."

  Greggory sits up straighter when he hears that. "How much do you think she's worth?"

  Mother shows her power when she says, "It doesn't matter, Greggory, because if you turn her in, I will cut you off completely. You will never get another cent from me again."

  Greggory snorts in disgust. "She was always your favorite—your only darling daughter."

  "If you had been stolen from me, I would have said the same thing in your behalf. Family sticks together, Greggory."

  "But should families break the law together?" Brock asks as he raises his eyebrows.

  "Only if the law takes one of the family members away forever without consent!"

  Brock puts a hand on Mother's arm. "Simmer down, Mom. I know that you have felt wronged since the day they took Elira to the complex, but you do realize that taking out the flaws in our society gives the future generations the best chance at long and healthy lives?"

  Greggory mutters under his breath, "And gives you the cheap catering that you need for your political luncheons."

  "Whose side are you on, Greggory?"

  "My own, obviously."

  Mother raises her eyebrows. "Brock, I find it very ironic that you think all of the flaws in our society have been eliminated. Do you consider pride, power-seeking, or the opposite, slothfulness and free-loading, human flaws? Because I do, and those flaws are running rampant everywhere I turn." I stifle a laugh. Wow, Mom isn't holding back.