The Girl Who Dared to Think by Bella Forrest (e reader for manga TXT) 📕

“She’s here with me,” Zoe announced, fitting the pipe back to the hole. “And I’m just here doing some checks on the piping, checking for corrosion or leaks.”

“Is this an assigned task or...?”

“Not assigned,” I said, knowing that if he checked, we’d be found out. “Roe Elphesian is one of the more overzealous members of Water Treatment. She tends to take on extra responsibilities, while I accompany her to learn.”

“I see.” Gerome looked around the room and nodded. “It’s good that you want to learn more. We would all benefit from it. I just have to wonder, are you considering a transfer?”

His words were delivered casually, but I could feel the potential bite of anger building. He didn’t approve of transfers. Luckily, I had no intention of transferring.

“Not at all. I am just doing everything I can to make my skills more versatile. You can never tell when something will break down.”

“That’s true. Very well. I’m glad I caught up with you, but you appear to be busy. We’ll talk more on patrol tomorrow?”

“Of course, sir,” I said as I activated the gears in my lash harness to lower myself to the ground I had spent the last forty minutes dangling over. “I’d be happy to.”

Gerome landed heavily beside me, choosing to drop straight down instead of lowering himself like I had, while Zoe climbed down using the pipes. “Good. Well, you two keep busy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He left as quickly as he had arrived, but I still waited for several long seconds before I let out a pent-up breath. Beside me, Zoe was doing just about as well—although her hands were shaking violently, as if she were experiencing extreme cold.

“You okay?” I asked, and she nodded.

“Yeah, but... I would very much like to get home.”

“Me too,” I replied automatically, then realized that no... I didn’t. She looked over at me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Hard part’s done,” she said. “Now it’s up to you to get him the pill after you ‘gas’ him.”

“Yeah,” I said, a touch bitterly. “Let’s just hope he realizes what’s going on, and fakes it.”

“Think he knows any Callivax?” she asked hopefully, and I shrugged.

“Don’t think it matters,” I replied, motioning for the tunnel that led to the exterior of the Citadel—back the way we had come. I wanted us out of the room sooner rather than later. “The window in the room is one-way glass.”

“Turn on the lights in the main room,” Zoe said as she slipped into the crawl space. “One-way glass only works when the room is dark. Sign him the message using the basic alphabet—everyone had to learn that in primary school. If you make it look like the lights got turned on by accident, and keep the hand movements small, I doubt Gerome will even notice. We’ve come this far. Only two more steps.”

Sure, I thought to myself as I dropped to my hands and knees to follow. And then I hope Zoe’s fix works—because if it doesn’t, then I’ll end up killing someone.

18

The next morning I woke up early. Too early, really, but I couldn’t sleep any longer. I was too apprehensive about what I was about to do, and I had spent most of the night tossing and turning. After a while, I realized sleep just wasn’t going to happen. So I worked out—push-ups, sit-ups, and squats, followed by a hot shower. I wasted an hour playing with my hair. Remembered to use the lotion that my mother had gotten at the market. Got dressed. Ate breakfast. Sat on the couch and waited. Practiced my message in Callivax. Ran through everything in my head two million and three times. Prayed.

At six a.m., just as the morning lights were beginning to glow, I tapped my indicator and netted Gerome with a simple message: I’m ready.

Two hours later, Gerome came to collect me from my house. My parents watched me go with more pride than concern in their eyes, standing in the hall as Gerome and I walked away.

Each step I took was fraught with worry. I agonized over every aspect of the plan, ending each thought with a prayer: Please don’t let me kill this man. Please let him understand Callivax. Please let them let me go in there to move his body. Please don’t let us get caught.

We took the elevator down. I stood in silence, watching the numbers track down as we drew closer and closer to the floor, the vice-like grip of fear slowly tightening around my heart. Halfway down, Gerome broke the silence, reminding me that he was still there.

“I’m happy you finally came to terms with what you must do,” he said. “You’re going to make a model Knight, Liana.”

“Thank you, sir,” I replied, keeping my eyes forward. Inwardly, I seethed at his words. Murder shouldn’t make anyone a model anything. If this was what our society had come to—murdering those who didn’t quite conform or fit in—then maybe the destruction of our world had been well deserved. Nothing could justify what they were doing down below—I didn’t care how much rhetoric they spat at me.

“Yes, well... I can see you rising to Knight Elite within a month. I’ll be surprised if they don’t automatically award you the rank when you become a full Knight.”

“It’s my honor to serve.”

Gerome smiled, his teeth flashing white, and all I could think about was that poor woman he’d poisoned in the chamber. I looked away and kept my head down, the words I wanted to scream at him locked tight behind a cage of teeth, jaw, and determination to rescue Grey.

The elevator came to a halt, and we stepped out and began moving down the familiar hall. This time the rooms were not empty. They were also, as I came to realize, not soundproof. The screams, cries, and whimpers were their own form of agony. Hearing the desperation and the pleading made me feel complicit in their