Hidden (Book 3 of the Immune Series)

Rules

Mya

The door opens a few minutes later, and Mom strides into the room, carrying her tablet under her arm. She places it down on the desk, sighing deeply before looking up at me.

"Everything okay?" I ask, scooting up in the leather seat.

"Yeah," she says, chuckling. "Everything's fine. Let's go on downstairs, I need to talk to you and your brother."

She offers me her hand, but I brush her away, pushing myself up using the arm of the chair. With a small smile, she watches me walk towards the door, dragging my feet behind me. If I pretend like I'm in pain, she won't suspect that I went through her things.

Finn's waiting at the bottom of the stairs, sitting in the floor with a book open on his lap. He clambers up to greet us, tripping over his own deer legs. His book tumbles to the floor, spine up, and Mom dives after it.

"Are you okay?" he asks, grabbing both of my shoulders.

"No," I say, frowning and taking a deep breath. "Mom says it's fatal. I've only got a few days to live."

The color drains from his face, and his eyes go wide. His eyebrows disappear into his hairline. With a loud intake of air, he wraps both arms around me, repeating how sorry he is into the skin of my neck.

I pat his back, smirking at Mom. She shakes her head, sighing.

"It's okay, Finn. I've already come to terms with my unavoidable death."

I pretend to cry, wrapping my arms around him and shaking my body up and down. Finn squeezes me, hard, and I break, busting into hysterical laughter. He pulls away, confused.

"Why're you laughing?" he whispers, cupping my cheek as he gazes down at me.

"Your face!" I exclaim, stepping around him and following Mom into the living room. "Did you actually think you killed me?"

Finn mumbles a few words that don't sound clean, and when I glance over my shoulder, his face burns red.

"That wasn't nice," Mom says, sitting down in a chair. I plop down onto the couch, still smirking at my fuming brother.

"Death's nothing to be joked about, Mya," he scolds, joining me but sitting as far away from me as possible.

"Oh, lighten up. It's just a scratch. I'll be fine."

"There was just so much blood," he mumbles, staring at his hands in his lap. He clenches them together so tight the knuckles are white.

"Little baby," I whisper towards him, staring ahead at Mom.

"What did you just call me?"

His voice is low, the same one he used to threaten me on the court.

"That's enough already!" Mom says, exasperated. "You two are ridiculous."

We both fall silent.

"Finn, Mya will be fine. She should sit out of physical activity time for a day or two. Just until I ensure there's no permanent damage. Can you watch her for me?"

He nods, but the muscle in his jaw tightens. Watching me is the last thing he wants to do.

"Mya, you asked me who was on the phone earlier." I hold my breath, scooting to the edge of the seat. "It was President Ashford."

Finn sucks in a breath of air, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"President Ashford called you?" he asks. "What for?"