47 Twelve Symbols

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Iris~~

The door to Jonas's office has twelve symbols carved into the wood. If I question him on them it will break our streak of silence. He opens the door and motions for me to step through. The walls of his office are painted a dark blue and portraits of former Preeminences and framed maps line them. Three book shelves stand away from the walls, creating four aisles. All of the books are beautifully bound, but the shelves aren't full. I imagine everything was lost to the bomb in his old office.

Has he read any of these books or are they decoration for his office? Are these all replacements for what was lost?

I hear Jonas shut the door and lock it, and I face him.

"Jonas—"

He presses his mouth against mine, and a heady sensation spreads across my mind. His hands thread into my hair, but I manage to pull back.

"Aren't you going to kill me?"

"Why do you think I'm always going to kill you?"

"Jae-yeon—Seong-ho, your Zeta said I'm a rebel. And pretty much said I should be dead."

"He didn't say when, and your Date has been changed in the databases." As he draws back, his thumb brushes over my cheek. He walks behind his desk and pulls a key from his pocket. With it he opens a drawer, withdrawing a file.

I approach the other side of his desk as he opens it. "As to you being a rebel, I already knew." He lays down papers. Some have the name of my orphanage on it, others the names of my directors as well as information on them. I pick up one piece of paper not believing what I'm seeing. It's the order to burn my home, signed by the former Digamma.

"How long did you know?"

"Since yesterday. I asked Riley the night after Colton's ceremony to find out about your past. I shouldn't have and that's why I didn't tell you when he came to me with your information."

I set the order next to a report about the mission being successful. I press my palms into the table to steady myself. "Did he tell you about Jae-yeon?"

"He said that Seong-ho had been assigned to your orphanage. When he told me that I really didn't know what to think or how to talk to you about it. Why did you go to Baltimore? Why didn't the others in your orphanage let you come with them?"

I press my hands harder into the desk like I pressed them into the dirt that night. That night I lost my home.

The screaming had stopped by then. We all knew that meant Lilyana and Kirk were dead. Burned like they were witches, trapped in their own home. Up until that point I thought it might be nice to find someone and fall in love with a person who was fated to die on the same day. But that night, I knew it was an ugly thought.

Y held the three-year-old twins and stood next to L who cradled baby Aurora. The two of them, Y and L, had opinions that mattered. The children I grew up with, some already young adults, others not even teenagers, stood around me as I pleaded with all of them as our home burned to the ground right at the bottom of the cliff we were on.

"Don't leave me," I begged. "You can't."

Eun-seob ran forward, throwing his arms around me, but someone pulled him back. I'll never know who.

"Y." My hands were clasped in front of me. He shook his head. "L." She looked away, her jaw trembling. "N? Connor?"

"Of course, she can come." Connor turned to all of them, his palm splayed out to me. "She's family."

N picked up Suzanne. "She can't. Just like we can't and won't watch her die."

"N, please." I sobbed. "That's not fair. I still have over a year."

They started moving away, L holding back to frown at me. "We love you," she said. "That's why we have to do this." She turned away then.

"No, you don't." I fell forward, my face landing in the dirt. "You don't really love me. This isn't love." I could follow them, but I knew they'd only continue to leave me. Again and again. I couldn't bear that. "Please. I need you."

"Iris?"

I look up into Jonas's eyes. They bring me back to here and now. "They didn't want me because of my Mark."

His eyes soften, and he walks around the desk to me. He takes my hands in his.

"That's why I'm not a rebel, because the rebels abandoned me." With my hands in his, I have to blink back tears, unable to wipe them away. "I wanted to destroy the Society for giving me an Expiration Date that let everyone know when I would die, that made them treat me like I was a porcelain doll—don't get too attached because I will only break. I wanted to destroy the Society for what they did to the people who raised me, to my home, but then I met you, and I couldn't believe it, but you started to change my perception of the Society, and I realized I could no longer want to destroy the Society, not when you were a part of it."

Jonas rubs his thumbs against my palms. "Do you still want to use your Mark against us?"

I search for the answer inside me. I replay what I said to Erik at the ball, what I've learned of Erik since. "No." I don't want to use it against them. I want to change them. I don't know how, but I know if I use my Mark, Jonas will be in danger of being exposed. My bandage is like a Pandora's box in a way. Peel it back and it releases a whole torrent of possibilities, some of which are far too deadly.

Jonas pulls me against him, and I bury my face in his neck. Maybe I should admit it . . . I don't know what I'm doing. 

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