Gabby’s family was much more like my idea of a real family, with all of their eccentricities and family tiffs and flaws. I loved watching them interact together. And I forgave Gabby for taking them for granted; after all, she had never known what it was like to be so desperate for a family that you’d risk your life trying to find out a little bit more about where you came from or where your family had gone.
Gabby’s mother, Martha, saw us talking and walked briskly toward us with a warm and welcoming smile on her face. She was a heavy-set woman with a loud, cheerful voice, and I was glad to see her again.
“Gabby never wants to bring her friends by anymore, but it’s good to see you, Robin!” she said as she pinched one of Gabby’s cheeks.
Gabby brushed her hand away and looked embarrassed.
“Gabby is a great team member,” I told her mother.
Gabby smiled at me, a genuine smile, and I grinned back at her. I meant that.
I turned back to Martha. “Will you all be attending the formal event tonight?” I asked.
Martha shook her head with a smile. “It wouldn’t be very formal if all of these kids showed up! I think we’re going to leave Gabby to her fun tonight.”
Gabby looked at me furtively with pure relief.
“But we have big plans for her hair and makeup!” Gabby’s mother added excitedly.
A five- or six-year-old boy showed up beside his mother at that point. Judging from the resemblance, he must’ve been one of Gabby’s siblings.
“Not that it will help!” he chirped, running off before his mother could scold him.
Gabby scowled at him as he left.
“I know she’ll be beautiful,” I said. “She always is. See you there, Gabby.”
Then I returned to Jace and the rest of our team. Jace watched me approach.
“They seem like even more fun on land,” he said with a chuckle.
They did seem like fun. I hoped one day I would be that lucky—the stern but loving matriarch of a humongous family. Leaning my head against Jace’s shoulder, I couldn’t help but imagine him being a big part of the picture.
Suddenly a trumpet blared and the crowd turned in rapt attention to the podium. Nathan strolled onto the stage and up to the microphone, the crowd erupting in applause at the sight of him. I wondered how long it had been since Nathan had visited those other bases. But Nathan was so charismatic, and the parade had been so exciting and beautiful, that I couldn’t imagine greeting him with anything less.
Nathan put a hand up in a humble show of appreciation, and the crowd quieted down.
“Citizens,” he began, allowing for the gravity of the word to sink in, “it’s a good time for all of us. A time that, sometime many years from now, will be talked about as a turning point in history. A time that, when the false history books of the regime have been collected and discarded, will be written about in the new history books, along with all of the other truths that the Burchard Regime is too afraid to face.”
The crowd hung on Nathan’s every word. He certainly was a showman.
“But it is a day that came at a price. And so, we remember the lives that were lost on our latest mission. We thank these heroes for the sacrifice they made—the ultimate sacrifice—in the hope that their actions would improve this country and the world as a whole.”
Savannah and Ajax. I wondered how many times Nathan had had to give this speech. Little John had been around for over a decade. How many lives had truly paved the way to this milestone?
Nathan bowed his head, and the crowd followed suit, bowing down and closing our eyes, truly thankful for the sacrifices that our team members, our family and friends, had made for the cause. Then Nathan looked up and continued.
“But as we mourn, we must celebrate. We must celebrate the successes of our mission, the skill of our teams, and the protections we provide one another.”
His eyes had been scanning the crowd during the course of his speech. At this last sentence, he looked directly at me. I couldn’t help but feel that he had been looking for me earlier, so that he could make that statement to me.
And the man in the tech room flashed back into my mind. The soldier who had gone to work that day expecting to come home that same night, only to have his life taken by me in the course of saving Nathan. Killing never got easier, no matter what the cause was.
“And so, I expect you to celebrate tonight! Please join us in the great hall to honor our team members. And remember, we are, all of us, a part of one team and one cause. And our cause is just.”
The crowd erupted into applause again at Nathan’s finale. And then a huge boom sounded over even the roar of the crowd. Confetti and balloons burst forth out of a massive cannon. Streamers and sparkling bits of paper fell down all around us. I stared up in wonder at the beauty of it all.
Yes, we had lost team members. Yes, we had many more dangerous missions ahead of us. But truly, our cause was just.
6
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Nelson said as we entered our room again. She walked over to her bed and sat down as I went straight to the closet. “We were only at the parade for an hour, and there’s no way—”
“You were saying?” I interrupted. I had cast open the closet doors to reveal two floor-length silken bags. Two white boxes sat on the top rack of the closet. And although it had been a while since I had seen one, I noticed that they looked suspiciously like shoeboxes.
Nelson’s jaw dropped. I, on the other hand, had come to expect this showy sleight of hand from Nathan. I was just excited to see what was in the bags. My mind had been exhausted of late by worry and confusion, and it was a relief to have a momentary distraction. Tonight we would relax and unwind. Tomorrow it was back to business as usual.
The garment bags each came with a personalized tag. I tossed Nelson the bag with her name on it—a calligraphy-style curlicued creation written in rich ink—along with a heavy shoebox emblazoned with a decorative N. Then I gently removed my garment bag and shoebox from the closet. I unzipped the bag to reveal a soft blue satin. The dress was ankle-length, with a short train in the back. Delicate embroidery and beadwork adorned the upper half of the dress, falling in tasteful cascades down the sides. It was a masterpiece. The shoebox contained matching blue satin pumps, poised delicately in white tissue paper. Small gemstones along the sides of the heels glinted in the light of the room.
I fingered the beadwork on my dress in awe. Then I turned to Nelson. She was holding up a silky black number with an asymmetrical hem.
“Well… the color’s right,” she said after a slight pause. But I detected a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.
I helped her get into her dress, the older girl backing up to me, holding up the fabric so I could zip it up for her. I noticed a few larger burn marks on her back, which were usually concealed by clothes, and was reminded of the pain Nelson had suffered at the government’s hands. She turned, looked back at me, and did an exaggerated curtsey.
I laughed. Then Nelson helped me through the same steps, both of us staying silent.
The satin was cool and smooth against my skin, and the feel took me back briefly to the extravagant family parties at the Sylvone manor—chasing my brothers down the spiral staircase, helping my sisters apply their lipstick, being chastised by my adoptive mother for getting dirty before guests arrived… The feel of finery was now a bittersweet memory.
Still, I felt beautiful and elegant in the dress and heels. I wondered what Jace would think.
The dresses fit perfectly. And another surprise presented itself when we entered the bathroom to look in the mirror: a bow-wrapped toiletries kit, complete with fruit, juice, fluted drinking glasses, perfume, tubes of lipstick and mascara, kohl eyeliner, and a few shades of rouge.
Nelson held up a blush brush and stared at it in confusion. She may have been solidly middle class in her past life, but she didn’t seem like the type that had ever enjoyed playing dress-up.
“I have literally never done
this,” she said. “And I don’t think I have time to learn.”
I glanced over at the clock.
“Maybe not,” I replied. “But I have time to do it twice.”
It was a strange experience sitting on the floor and applying lipstick to Nelson’s lips. We giggled and poked fun at each other like school kids, testing different shades, sipping delicately at our juices, and making faces at the strong perfume, acting out the girlhood that we hadn’t gotten to experience for long enough. The bright colors of the makeup, the satiny texture of our dresses, and the pure and childish laughter we shared helped me keep my mind away from the thoughts of Hope, my parents, and the turmoil of the last two weeks.
“I’m glad you know how to do this,” Nelson admitted at one point, after I had swept a bright coral blush across her cheeks. “Hope will be a lucky girl to have a teacher like you. You’re smart, kind, and good with a makeup brush.”
And with that, my mind was back on Hope—and Rylo.
“I wonder if our daughters are in frou-frou little dresses right now,” I said finally, lowering my eyes. It was a bittersweet thought. On one hand, it was nice to imagine that they were living lives free of worry or hunger. They probably never wanted for anything. They probably had nurseries full of expensive toys and clothing and a round-the-clock staff to feed and change and play with them.
On the other hand, those caregivers weren’t Nelson or me. And that information stung.
“That’s definitely not how I would have dressed her,” Nelson said.
“You know,” I said slowly, deep in thought, “maybe Rylo isn’t even into this stuff. Maybe she’ll be more excited to have her mom teach her about coding.”
Nelson’s eyes began to water and her face lit with a sweet smile.
But, like it did so often, a knock at the door interrupted our moment. Nelson smiled and rolled her eyes at me in a playful show of annoyance, and then stood to answer.
Alexy and Jackie were on the other side of the door, wearing shades of bright coral and seafoam green, respectively.
“You guys ready to dance?” Alexy asked dangerously.
We traveled together from our dorm down the hall and out into the evening. It was just warm enough without the sunlight that we didn’t need shawls over our bare shoulders, and the street was alight with merriment. People were laughing and chatting animatedly on their way to the great hall. The four of us, however, focused mostly on balancing in our heels along the way.
An archway of black-and-silver balloons adorned the entrance to the grand hall, and people were streaming into the building. It looked like a fancy upper-class gala, with men in tuxedos and women in formal dresses of all different colors, cuts, and lengths. I noticed Silver, the blue-haired mechanic from Henry’s new team, entering the hall in studded heels and a short red dress. I was relieved not to see Henry. With any luck, he’d be sitting this event out. I wasn’t ready to face him yet after our showdown in the dining hall.
I also noticed the backs of two boys of suspiciously similar height and build as they entered, and assumed that it was Ant and Abe. I couldn’t imagine either of them in formalwear, and I was excited to get a closer look.
Before we could progress, Zion approached us from the side, looking strapping in his suit. He went right for Alexy, ignoring the rest of us.
“I’ll catch up with you guys inside,” she called over her shoulder as he whisked her away on some errand that was evidently too important to wait but not important enough to need the rest of us.
I craned my neck in all directions to find the rest of my friends—particularly Jace—but came to the conclusion that they might already be inside the ballroom itself, beyond the long foyer.
“I hope somebody saved us a table,” Jackie said. “I am not cut out for this type of footwear.”
Once we got inside, we saw that the hall was dimly lit. Old-fashioned candles decorated long tables on either side of us as we walked down the hallway into the hall’s large, open ballroom. Cloyd, Kory, Denver, and Alf stood off to one side of the hallway, chatting, but Jace wasn’t with them. Kory nodded at me when we made eye contact, and Denver and Alf waved cheerfully, but Cloyd didn’t even look over. Whatever his problem with me was, it was apparent that it was still ongoing.
I wondered why Jace wasn’t with his closest group of friends. Surely he would be attending tonight. I was looking for him so obviously that I had almost been turning in circles. It would’ve been much easier to spot familiar faces if people in the hall actually looked like themselves, but the unusual air of formality gave everyone the appearance of a stranger. Edgewood didn’t even seem like Edgewood tonight. It seemed more like an upper-class city, complete with a parade of politicians and entertainers and old-money families. I noticed with unease that, tonight, Edgewood emulated the parts of society that we were now in opposition to.
“He’s probably in the ballroom already,” Jackie whispered to me with a knowing grin.
I felt my face deepen several shades of red but turned and strolled in that direction.
The mood changed as the hallway opened up into the ballroom. Loud, upbeat music filled our ears and large, round tables circled an open area lit with colorful, twirling spotlights. Hundreds of people were dancing in the middle. Hands clapped, feet stomped, and long skirts swirled in the huge huddle of dancers. My heart filled at the sight. It looked like more fun than I had ever had.
“Jackie!” Ant called.
The three of us turned and headed to a round table on the left side of the room, which Ant and Abe had managed to snag. Still no Jace, I noticed with disappointment.
“Wow!” Nelson said as we approached the table. “You guys look… different.”
Ant and Abe had their unruly hair brushed and slicked back. They looked much older and more mature in their well-fitted tuxedos—almost like different people entirely.
“So do you, Nelson,” Abe replied. “I didn’t know you were a girl!”
Nelson glared at Abe, but then cracked a grin. She and Jackie took seats at the table, Jackie taking the seat beside Ant.
“You look really nice,” she told him in an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. She looked down after she said it, as if she was unsure of what she was doing.
Abe leaned over the table. “Well, since we look just alike, I’ll assume that was also meant for me. Thank you,” he quipped.
“You don’t look bad yourself,” Ant replied.
Jackie blushed.
“Especially for a girl that attended our last soiree unable to stand on her own,” Abe added. Ant shot him a look.
Nelson patted the seat of the chair beside her. “Want to sit?” she asked me.
“Not yet,” I replied. “I’m going to explore a bit.”
Then I set off, hoping my continued search for Jace wasn’t as obvious as it felt.
I walked around the perimeter of the dance floor, the music so loud and powerful that I could feel it thumping in my chest. The electric energy of the dancers was calling to me, and I found myself tapping my feet and swaying my hips slightly any time I got close to the dancing revelers.
There were tables all around the open dancing area, and Alexy and Zion waved from one in the back (no Jace there either, I noticed sadly), while Corona herself was seated at a table with Piper in the middle of the back area. They sat with several older adults that I had never seen before, and who were all dressed lavishly—even more so than the rest of the guests. I wondered if they were higher-ups from other bases. But if so, where was Nathan?
At that moment I bumped into a pretty young woman in a yellow frock and excused myself. As I moved to go around her, though, I was surprised to hear her use my name.
“Robin?” she asked in an uncertain tone.
Gabby! I didn’t even recognize her. Her hair was piled high on her head in an elaborate up-do, and she wore bright lipstick and had dark-lined eyes. Her strappy heels gave her an extra few inches, and she looked nothing like the kid I had grown accu
stomed to. She looked like a young woman, graceful and stunning.
“Gabby, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even recognize you. You look…”
“Disgusting?” she murmured. She looked down at her feet.
I picked her chin up and brought my face closer to hers. “You look radiant,” I corrected her. And I meant it.
Gabby smiled. “I think my mom went a little overboard,” she confessed. But her smile didn’t leave her face.
“Have you seen Jace?” I ventured. No point in hiding it anymore. I wanted to find him.
“Isn’t that him?” Gabby asked, pointing. I turned to look.
He was standing at the edge of the dance floor, on the side opposite our table, looking around the crowd. I didn’t know how I didn’t see him before. He was almost a head taller than any of the other men in the room, which made his tuxedoed appearance even more striking. Furthermore, in a room full of short, military-style men’s haircuts, his hair was shimmering down to the nape of his neck, reflecting the flashing lights over the dance floor. He stood with one hand tucked into his pocket, exuding an effortless cool, but his face looked strained, like he was looking for something.
Maybe he was looking for me.
I turned back to Gabby. “Our table is that way,” I told her, pointing to the right side of the dance floor. “I’ll meet you over there.”
Then I began to stride toward Jace.
I was worried about tripping in my heels. I was worried about being yanked back if a dancer stepped on my train. And I was worried about my mascara and blush. Jace probably wasn’t into stuff like that, having been raised among strong, independent women who hunted and harvested for their families, likely without even the faintest thought of makeup. Jace probably thought makeup was trite and superficial. I suddenly felt shallow and painted-up. But as he turned to face me, all of those worries melted into the background.
The Child Thief 5: Ghost Towns Page 6
