The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) by Bella Forrest (i have read the book a hundred times .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Bella Forrest
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Owen quickly came to my rescue. “Violet did what she had to in order to survive, and if you had any idea what that was like, you wouldn’t push her for details or praise her. She’s just like us—she wants to take care of the people she cares about.”
I shot Owen an appreciative glance and he winked.
“Believe me,” I said, lowering my voice so that they would pay closer attention. “I would not wish what I have been through on my worst enemy.”
“Not even the queen?” whispered Quinn, his eyes wide, and I was momentarily struck by how young he was—older than my brother, but not by much.
I shook my head. “Not even her,” I said.
Amber watched me, her eyes flickering. “No offense, but I think that’s really dumb.”
“Why would you say that?” cut in Solomon.
Amber tossed a glance at him and then frowned. “The queen is the reason we’re doing this. She took those boys from their mothers and family and subjected them to that awful place.” She shuddered. “What she has done is no different than my father using me for his benefit.”
“Well, to be fair, it was Queen Rina,” Owen said, standing up. “Queen Elena might be a nicer person—we don’t actually know.”
Quinn scoffed and banged his empty tin down on the ground. “They’re all the same,” he said. “I mean… aren’t they trying to frame Violet for something she didn’t do?”
I leaned back, my eyebrows climbing to my forehead. “There aren’t many secrets in this group, huh?”
Amber rolled over on one side, propping her head up with one hand. “Not many, though we didn’t know what happened while you were in The Green alone. I don’t even think Desmond knows actually… and she knows everything.”
I nodded. “Right, well, yes, blaming me doesn’t speak too kindly of Queen Elena. Not to mention she left the boys in the facility, presumably to cover up what her mother was up to. Except…”
I trailed off, my mind working. The group sat patiently for a few seconds before Owen chimed in.
“Except what?” he asked, his blue eyes on me.
“Except… why would Queen Elena? They were close to achieving their goal, right? Even without Mr. Jenks, there was a chance someone could be hired to replicate his work, but they would need access to his original research and test subjects. Why did the queen just abandon the facility instead of destroying it, if her goal was a cover-up?”
The group exchanged a series of looks. “That’s astute,” Solomon commented after a pause. “And a good point—although I’m sure Desmond’s considered it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she has,” I muttered.
After another span of quiet, Owen stretched out. “All right, enough chitchat. We can continue the conversation tomorrow, but for now, we rest. Amber, you’re up on guard duty, followed by Solomon, me, Quinn, and Violet, you’re last.”
The next morning dawned too soon in my mind. My muscles were sore from the previous day, but I used the two-hour morning shift to stretch them out. Everything was quiet and there was an eerie sense of calm in The Green, but nothing that stood out.
I woke Owen when it was time, and he helped me wake the others. We quickly ate, packed up camp, and started trudging along again. I had figured out yesterday that we were cutting a clear path toward Veil River, the toxic body of water that served as a natural boundary between Matrus and Patrus.
I wondered if Owen planned for us to cross there and head directly south afterward. It made sense, but the glaring exception was that there were no bridges, and the river was wide. It was also turbulent, so taking anything smaller than a barge was risky. If we capsized on the river, we might die within minutes of exposure.
I reminded myself again that I had to trust Owen—this was what it meant to work in a team. He knew what he was doing. After all, the Liberators operated from The Green, which meant they knew how to get in and out of it safely.
We walked for several hours before Owen stopped us abruptly. Immediately, a flurry of motion exploded from everyone as they began redistributing stuff from their packs and removing their weapons, placing them inside the bags. Curious, I stepped through the trees and gaped at the massive crack in the earth before us.
The two jagged pieces of earth were at least a hundred paces apart, and the crevice ran deep. The earth was red underneath—a violent, unnatural crimson that looked bloody and raw. The opposite facing wall jutted out at least twenty feet overhead.
Instinctively, I took a step back before I could look down to see how deeply it ran.
“We’re not going to climb that, are we?” I asked, my heart leaping into my throat.
Owen chuckled and shook his head. “No,” he said. “We’re going to climb a tree, and then swing across.”
A wave of dizziness hit me and I took another step back. “Oh God,” I breathed.
Owen looked past my shoulder and I whirled—directly into Solomon’s arms. He scooped me up and slung me over his shoulders almost casually, fitting me over his back like a human backpack. I gripped him tightly, my muscles tensed in preparation to leap off of him, when he started climbing.
I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing as a wave of panic slammed into me. I could hear the others grunting as they climbed, and a small whimper escaped my throat.
“It’s okay, Violet,” Solomon whispered, low enough so only I could hear. “It will be over in about forty-five seconds. Count for me.”
I considered ignoring his request, but it seemed reasonable, all things considered. I started counting, focusing on the numbers.
At twenty, I clenched him tighter as the wind began to whistle past my ears. Amber shouted
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