by Kiera Cass
Never could I have imagined I’d be bracing myself for the task of putting my father in the ground.
As the car pulled up to my street, I started to see the masses. Though people ought to be home with their families, they instead crowded outside in the cold. I realized they were hoping to catch a glimpse of me, and I felt a little sick. People pointed as we passed, and some local news crews took footage.
The car stopped in front of my house, and the people waiting started cheering. I didn’t understand. Didn’t they know why I was here? I walked up the cracked sidewalk with Lucy by my side and six guards surrounding us. No chance was being taken.
“Lady America!” people called.
“Can I have your autograph?” someone screamed, and others joined in.
I kept moving, looking ahead. For once, I felt I could excuse myself from being theirs. I lifted my head to the lights hanging off the roof. Dad did that. Who was going to take them down?
Aspen, at the head of my entourage, knocked on the front door and waited. Another guard came to answer and he and Aspen spoke quickly before we were allowed inside. It was hard to get all of us down the hall, but once the space opened into the living room, I immediately felt something . . . wrong.
This wasn’t home anymore.
I told myself I was crazy. Of course this was home. It was just the unfamiliarity of how this was unfolding. Everyone was here, even Kota. But Dad was gone, so it was only natural that it wouldn’t seem quite right. And Kenna was holding a baby who I’d never seen in real life before. I’d have to get used to that.
And while Mom was in an apron and Gerad was in his pajamas, I was dressed for dinner at the palace: hair up, sapphires on my ears, and layers of luxurious fabrics draping to my heeled shoes. It felt as if I wasn’t welcome for a moment.
But May hopped to her feet and ran to hug me, crying into my shoulder. I held her back. I remembered that this might be a strange adjustment, but this was the only place I could be right now. I had to be with my family.
“America,” Kenna said, standing with her child in her arms. “You look so beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, embarrassed.
She gave me a one-armed hug, and I peeked into the blankets at my sleeping niece. Astra’s little face was serene as she slept, and every few seconds she’d unclench her tiny fist or fidget just a bit. She was breathtaking.
Aspen cleared his throat. “Mrs. Singer, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Mom gave him a tired smile. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry we’re not here under better circumstances, but with Lady America home, we’re going to have to be quite diligent about security,” he said, a ring of authority in his voice. “We’re going to have to ask everyone to stay in this house. I know it’ll be tight, but it’s only for a few days. And the guards have been provided an apartment nearby so we can rotate easily. We’re going to try to be as out of the way as possible.
“James, Kenna, Kota, we’re prepared to leave for your homes to pick up your necessities whenever you’re ready to go. If you need some time to make a list, that’s fine. We’re on your schedule.”
I smiled a little, happy to see Aspen this way. He’d grown so much.
“I can’t stay away from my studio,” Kota said. “I have deadlines. There are pieces due.”
Aspen, still professional, answered him. “Any materials you need can come to the studio here.” He pointed toward our converted garage. “We’ll make as many trips as necessary.”
Kota crossed his arms and mumbled. “That place is a dump.”
“Fine,” Aspen said firmly. “The choice is yours. You can either work in the dump, or you can risk your life at your apartment.”
The tension in the air was awkward, and very unnecessary at the moment. I decided to break it. “May, you can sleep with me. Kenna and James can have your room.”
They nodded.
“Lucy,” I whispered. “I want you near us. You might have to sleep on the floor, but I want you close by.”
She stood a bit taller. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, miss.”
“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Kota demanded.
“With me,” Gerad offered, though he didn’t seem excited about it.
“Absolutely not!” Kota scoffed. “I’m not sleeping on a bunk bed with a child.”
“Kota!” I said, stepping away from my sisters and Lucy. “You can sleep on the couch or in the garage or in the tree house for all I care; but if you don’t check your attitude, I’ll send you back to your apartment right now! Have some gratitude for the security you’ve been offered. Need I remind you that tomorrow we’re burying our father? Either stop the bickering or go home.” I turned on my heel and headed down the hall. Without checking, I knew Lucy was right behind me, suitcase in hand.
I opened the door to my room, waiting for her to come in with me. Once her skirts swished past the frame, I slammed it shut, heaving a sigh.
“Was that too much?” I asked.
“It was perfect!” she replied with delight. “You might as well be the princess already, miss. You’re ready for it.”
CHAPTER 24
THE NEXT DAY PASSED IN a blur of black dresses and hugs. Lots of people I’d never even seen before came to Dad’s funeral. I wondered if I just didn’t know all his friends or if they were here because I was.
A local pastor gave the service, but for security reasons, the family was asked not to stand and speak. There was a reception, far more elaborate than anything we could have ever hoped for. Though no one told me so, I was sure Silvia or some other palace employee had a hand in making this as easy for us and as beautiful as possible. For safety, it was short, but that was fine with me. I wanted to let him go as painlessly as I could.
Aspen stayed near me at all times, and I was grateful for his presence. I couldn’t have trusted anyone with my life as I could him.
“I haven’t cried since I left the palace,” I said. “I thought I’d be a wreck.”
“It hits at funny times,” he replied. “I fell apart for a few days after my father died, before I realized I had to get it together for everyone else’s sake. But sometimes when something would happen and I’d want to tell my dad about it, the whole thing would hit me in the chest again, and I’d break down.”
“So . . . I’m normal?”
He smiled. “You’re normal.”
“I don’t know a lot of these people.”
“They’re all local. We checked identification. It’s probably a bit higher of a number because of who you are, but I think your dad made a painting for the Hampshires, and I saw him speaking to Mr. Clippings and Albert Hammers in the market area more than once. It’s hard to know everything about people close to you, even the people you love the most.”
I sensed there was something more in that sentence, something I was supposed to respond to. I just couldn’t right now.
“We need to get used to this,” he said.
“To what? Everything feeling awful?”
“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “Nothing is the same anymore. Everything that ever made sense is shifting.”
I laughed humorlessly. “It is, isn’t it?”
“We’ve got to stop being afraid of the change.” He looked at me, eyes pleading. I couldn’t help but wonder what change he meant.
“I’ll confront the change. But not today.” I walked away, embracing more strangers, trying to comprehend that I couldn’t talk to my dad anymore about how confused I was feeling.
After the funeral, we tried to keep the spirits up. There were presents left over from Christmas to open since no one had been in the mood for a big gift-giving spree. Gerad was given special permission to play ball in the house, and Mom spent most of the afternoon next to Kenna, holding Astra. Kota was beyond pleasing, so we let him go off into the studio without bothering to check up on him. It was May I worried about the most. She kept saying her hands wanted to work, but she didn’t want to go i
nto the studio and not see Dad there.
In an inspired moment, I pulled her and Lucy into my room for some playtime. Lucy was a willing subject as May brushed out her hair, giggling as the makeup brushes tickled her cheeks.
“You do this to me every day!” I complained lightly.
May really had a talent for arranging hair, her artist’s eyes ready to work with any medium. While May wore one of the maid uniforms even though it was too big for her, we put dress after dress on Lucy. We settled on a blue one, long and delicate, pinning it in the back so it fit.
“Shoes!” May cried, running to find a matching pair.
“My feet are too wide,” Lucy complained.
“Nonsense,” May insisted, and Lucy obediently sat on the bed while May tried the most bizarre forms of shoe application on the planet.
Lucy’s feet really were too big, but with every attempt she laughed herself into a stupor at May’s antics, and I was doubled over watching it all. We were so loud, it was only a matter of time until someone came to see what was going on.
After three quick knocks, I heard Aspen’s voice through the door. “Is everything all right in there, miss?”
I ran over and opened the door wide. “Officer Leger, look at our masterpiece.” I gave a wide sweep of my arm toward Lucy, and May pulled her up, her poor bare feet hidden under the dress.
Aspen looked at May in her baggy uniform and laughed and then took in Lucy, looking like a princess. “An amazing transformation,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“Okay, I think we should put your hair all the way up now,” May insisted.
Lucy rolled her eyes jokingly toward Aspen and me and let May drag her back to the mirror.
“Was this your idea?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. May looked so lost. I had to distract her.”
“She looks better. And Lucy looks happy, too.”
“It does as much for me as it does for them. It feels like, if we can do things that are silly or even just typical, I’ll be okay.”
“You will be. It’ll take time, but you’ll be okay.”
I nodded. But then I started thinking about Dad again, and I didn’t want to cry now. I took a deep breath and moved on.
“It seems wrong that I’m the lowest caste left in the Selection,” I whispered back to him. “Look at Lucy. She’s as pretty and sweet and smart as half of the girls who were in that pool of thirty-five, but this is the best she’ll ever have. A few hours in a borrowed dress. It’s not right.”
Aspen shook his head. “I’ve gotten to know all your maids pretty well over the last few months, and she’s a really special girl.”
Suddenly a promise I’d made came back to me.
“Speaking of my maids, I need to talk to you about something,” I said, dropping my voice.
Aspen stiffened. “Oh?”
“I know this is awkward, but I need to say it all the same.”
He swallowed. “Okay.”
I bashfully looked him in the eye. “Would you ever consider Anne?”
His expression was strange, as if he was simultaneously relieved and amused. “Anne?” he whispered incredulously. “Why her?”
“I think she likes you. And she’s a really sweet girl,” I said, trying to hide the depth of Anne’s feelings but build her up at the same time.
He shook his head. “I know you want me to think about the possibility of other people, but she’s not at all the kind of girl I’d want to be with. She’s so . . . rigid.”
I shrugged. “I thought Maxon was like that until I got to know him. Besides, I think she’s had it rough.”
“So? Lucy’s had it rough, and look at her,” he said, nodding his head toward her laughing reflection.
I took a guess. “Did she tell you how she ended up at the palace?”
He nodded. “I’ve always hated the castes, Mer; you know that. But I’d never heard of them being manipulated that way, to acquire slaves.”
I sighed, looking over at May and Lucy, this stolen moment of joy in the middle of sorrow.
“Prepare yourself for words you thought you’d never hear,” Aspen warned, and I looked up at him, waiting. “I’m actually really glad Maxon met you.”
I coughed out something close to a laugh.
“I know, I know,” he said, rolling his eyes but smiling. “But I don’t think he would have ever stopped to wonder about the lower castes if it wasn’t for you. I think just you being there has changed things.”
We looked at each other for a moment. I remembered our conversation in the tree house, when he urged me to sign up for the Selection, hoping I’d have a chance for something better. I didn’t know yet if I’d gotten something better for myself—it was still hard to tell—but the thought of maybe giving something better to everyone else in Illéa . . . that possibility meant more to me than I could say.
“I’m proud of you, America,” Aspen said, looking from me to the girls by the mirror. “Really proud.” He moved into the hallway, back to his rounds. “Your father would be, too.”
CHAPTER 25
THE NEXT DAY WAS ANOTHER sentence of house arrest. From time to time, I’d hear the floor creak, and I’d turn my head, thinking that Dad would walk out of the garage, paint in his hair like always. But knowing that wasn’t going to happen didn’t feel as bad when I could hear May’s voice or smell Astra’s baby powder. The house felt full, and that was enough for now—its own kind of comfort.
I’d decided Lucy shouldn’t wear her uniform while she was here, and after a little protesting, I wiggled her into some of my old clothes that were too small for me but too big for May. Since Mom was busy distracting herself by cooking and serving everyone and I’d decided to tone down my look to sit around the house, Lucy’s main job was to play with May and Gerad, a task she took on happily.
We were all gathered in the living room, busying ourselves in our own ways. I had a book in hand, and Kota was hogging the television, reminding me of Celeste. I smiled, betting she was doing exactly that now.
Lucy, May, and Gerad were playing a card game on the floor, each one laughing when they won a round. Kenna was propped up against James on the couch, and baby Astra was finishing a bottle in his arms. It was easy to see the exhaustion in his face, but also the absolute pride in his beautiful wife and daughter.
It was almost as if nothing had changed. Then I’d see Aspen out of the corner of my eye in his uniform, standing watch over us, and remember that, in reality, nothing would ever be the same.
I heard Mom sniffling before I saw her coming down the hall. I turned my head and watched her walk toward us, holding a handful of envelopes.
“How are you feeling, Mom?” I asked.
“I’m fine. I just can’t believe he’s gone.” She swallowed, forcing herself not to cry again.
It was strange. There had been so many times when I had doubted Mom’s devotion to Dad. I’d never caught the glimpses of affection between them that I’d seen in other couples. Even Aspen, when everything was on the verge of being real but still very much a secret, showed me he loved me more than Mom did Dad.
But I could tell that this was more than the worry of raising May and Gerad alone getting to her, or stress over money. Her husband was gone, and nothing would ever make that right.
“Kota, could you turn off the TV for a minute? And Lucy, honey, could you take May and Gerad into America’s room? I have some things to discuss with the others,” she said quietly.
“Of course, ma’am,” Lucy replied, and turned to May and Gerad. “Let’s go then.”
May didn’t look happy about being excluded from whatever was going on, but she chose not to put up a fight. I wasn’t sure if it was because of Mom’s heavy demeanor or her love for Lucy, but either way I was glad.
Once they were gone, Mom turned to the rest of us. “You know your father’s condition was something that ran in the family. I think he could tell he only had a little time left, because about three years ago, he
sat down and started writing these letters to you, to all of you.” She looked down to the envelopes in her hands.
“He made me promise that if anything ever happened, I’d give them to you. I have ones for May and Gerad, but I’m not sure they’re old enough. I haven’t read them or anything. They were meant for you, so . . . I thought this would be a nice time to read them. This is Kenna’s,” she said, handing over a letter. “Kota.” He sat up straighter and took his. Mom walked over to me. “And America.”
I took my letter, unsure whether I wanted to open it or not. These were my last words from my father, the good-bye I thought I’d lost. I ran my hand over my name on the envelope, thinking of my father dashing the pen across it. He dotted the i in my name with some kind of squiggle. I smiled to myself, trying to guess what made him decide to do that and not caring at the same time. Maybe he knew I’d need to smile.
But then I looked at it closer. That little mark had been added later. The ink on my name had mostly faded, but that scribble was darker, fresher than the rest.
I flipped over the envelope. The seal had been broken and taped back together.
I glanced over to Kenna and Kota, who were both diving into the words. They seemed engrossed, so they hadn’t known that these existed before this moment. That meant either Mom was lying and had read mine or Dad had opened this again.
That was all it took for me to decide I had to know what he’d left for me. I carefully picked at the retaped seal and pulled open the envelope.
There was a letter on faded paper and then a short, quick note on bright white paper. I wanted to read the short note, but I was afraid I wouldn’t understand it without reading the long one first. I pulled out the letter and took in Dad’s words in the sunlight by the window.
America,
My sweet girl. I’m having a hard time even starting this letter because I feel like there’s so much to tell you. Though I love all my children equally, you have a special place in my heart. Kenna and May both lean on your mother, Kota is so independent that Gerad is drawn to him, but you have always come to me. When you scraped your knees or were picked on by the upper kids, my arms were always the ones you wanted. It means the world to me to know that, at least for one of my children, I was their rock.
