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

and forced him to swallow by massaging his neck. Finished, he straightened and immediately moved to gather me up, before guiding us both out of the quarters.

Back in the main hall, we both hobbled down the long tunnel, moving as inconspicuously as possible. Luckily, we were in the middle of a shift, so everyone else was either working or resting, which meant there weren’t too many people to mark our passing. Silvan would be up shortly, screaming his head off about the two nines who had offered him an illegal pill that would make him a nine as well.

It made me wonder how Roark had dealt with these situations, and the blue pill flashed through my mind. It did something to them; I was now very sure of it, but I wasn’t sure what.

“What was that you gave him?” I asked, once we had put a little distance behind us. Grey’s arm around my waist tightened, and he looked at me sharply. I realized he was still angry. “What?”

“You should’ve followed my lead,” he said, turning me down a side hall.

I looked away from him, my brows coming together as I thought about his statement. “Wait... Are you saying this is my fault? Because if so, then to hell with you. Your questions weren’t exactly designed for him to give an honest answer without fear of incrimination.”

“Liana, he was ready for Medica treatment, and—”

“He’s been brainwashed,” I interjected angrily, not liking the patronizing quality of his voice.

To his credit, he bit back what he was going to say, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Then he sighed, reaching up with his free hand and raking it through his hair, wincing when the burned flesh on his forearm pulled.

“I know he has,” he said. “But he was also cutting his own flesh. Didn’t you notice the scars on his arms?”

I thought back, fighting through the pain in my head. “No. I didn’t. I mean... how do you even know he was cutting himself?”

Grey’s face tightened, and he looked down. “I learned how to recognize it through Roark. It’s a bigger problem in the Tower than many would think. He had multiple scars, some old and white, others pink and fresh, too regular and patterned to be accidental.”

“Oh. But shouldn’t that mean we should be helping him?”

“We are, by leaving him. The best place for him to go is the Medica. They have doctors to help with situations like this. Unlike you and I, Silvan can and will recover. But not if we recruit him.” He held his arm up to look at the burn. “We couldn’t take care of his emotional and mental well-being.”

I felt a surge of guilt and looked away. “I’m sorry,” I said as we rounded another corner. “I didn’t realize.”

We walked in silence for a minute, and then he said, “You shouldn’t apologize. You were worried about him. That’s not a terrible thing. It just didn’t work out this time.”

“Well, the next time, I’ll just follow your lead.”

“Next time?” I heard the surprise in his voice and turned to see a small smile playing on his lips. “You really want to do this again?”

“Well, yeah.” Stopping, I looked up at him. “I mean, we’re about fifty-fifty right now in our success rate, but... I really like doing it. I like trying. It’s the first time that I’ve ever felt like I made a positive change in someone’s life.”

“And you didn’t when you rescued me? Because that was a pretty positive thing for me.”

I smiled at his teasing tone and began moving again. “Fine, that too,” I replied dryly, rolling my eyes theatrically. “So you still never answered my questions, and I’ve had to ask them twice. Last time you offered me the answer for a kiss, and never delivered. It’s turning into a pattern with you.”

He laughed loudly, his eyes brightening, and just like that, some of my bumps and bruises faded away into inexplicable happiness. I waited for him to stop laughing, my own smile riding my lips, and he looked over at me, his eyes warm and appreciative.

“You’re right, of course. Quite rude of me.”

“Quite,” I agreed primly. “So, are you going to make me ask a third time?”

“Not at all,” he said, pressing the button to open a door that separated Cogstown from Water Treatment. The door beeped, and Grey withdrew his silver chip, holding it up to the scanner. The door hummed then, and then a digitally rendered woman’s voice spoke.

“This isn’t a regular entrance,” it chimed brightly. “I suggest you bugger off, before I get mad.”

I smiled in response and watched Grey roll his eyes and kick the base of the thick metal door three times. “Your mother is bad with tools,” he announced, and there was a little beep.

“Password accepted. All right, I’m opening the door, but I don’t want to see your face ever again,” it said, just as cheerfully as before. The door slid open, and I stepped through.

“Man, when did the automatic voices get personalities?” I joked, and Grey shrugged.

“Well, each department has its own voices programmed for their talking equipment,” he said, referring to any system that could communicate verbally with the citizens of the Tower. “The elevators are all networked together, so they use the same voice. But, yeah, they do have a little bit more personality lately. Maybe someone is experimenting, trying to give the voices more flavor. Anyway, in answer to your question, the pill I gave him was something Roark calls Spero. It’s supposed to make him forget the last hour or so.”

“So he won’t remember us at all?”

“He shouldn’t,” he replied, and I exhaled. I had trusted that the pill was designed for a specific purpose to keep us safe, and I was glad that I had been right. Even still... he would probably wake up knowing he had been attacked, but with no memory of why. That was going to draw attention. I was suddenly glad we had gotten out of