Scarlett Romero has spent her entire life as an ordinary citizen; going to school, getting a job and definitely not killing people in the middle of the woods on a Friday night.
Until one Friday night, she does.
All she can remember is acting out of...
I wasn't born to Be soft and quiet. I was born to Make the world shatter.
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Chapter Twenty-One "Off with Her Head!"
Scarlett's POV:
Within the next few days, I expect my world to blow up; for Colonel Tolkien to have me killed, for Quinn to finally get rid of me, for the prison to be overrun by guards who watch my every move. But as the days slowly drone on, nothing happens.
Our cell doors stay shut and nobody comes looking for me. It's like the entire prison is empty and we've been left here to rot.
I stopped being hyper alert of every sound after Quinn failed to collect us for our daily activities on the third day. Alexander isn't quite the same. I don't think he's slept a wink, he's constantly tense and he always makes sure he can see the whole room.
He doesn't speak to me much – I'm not sure if that's because we still haven't resolved our argument, or because he's so focused on protecting me he can't form a coherent sentence. Either way, if I'm left to my thoughts any longer, I'm going to end up eating my own foot.
"Would you stop glaring at the goddamn door!" I groan, munching on a piece of shortbread and kicking my feet up on the couch. "If they haven't done anything yet, the chances are they won't do anything at all."
Alexander's perched on the study chair, eyes latched on the doorway as if he thinks an alien is about to jump out and dance for him. He's resting his elbows on his thighs, and the only sign he's not made of stone is the occasional blink.
He barely spares me a glance, but when he does, it's full of disbelief as he says, "You're a fool if you believe that. Places like this only wait out a punishment to lull you into a false sense of security. I thought you were smarter than to think otherwise."
I frown, not liking the glimmer of offense steadily building in my chest. I know Citadel wouldn't let me get away with saving Natalia and exposing myself, but saying it out loud makes it real. It means I've accepted the threat, and I don't want to face that yet.
I'd rather hide behind my sugar-coated, nothing bad is going to happen, and over time everything will go back to the way it was. But Alexander keeps doing this; making me feel guilty and ashamed, and I hate the way my stomach now sinks when he opens his mouth.
"I know, Alexander!" I snap, wishing I could burrow under the couch cushions and never come out. "I know we're in danger, and Tolkien doing nothing is a bad thing! I just want to keep things light, so it doesn't make me feel like I'm being suffocated by this... this weight on my chest!"
Alexander finally looks away from the door and meets my harsh stare. I want him to be angry, to yell at me the way he did after I saved Natalia and Mason. It'll mean he's not immune to feeling – to being okay with choosing my life over that of a mother and child.
