CHAPTER THIRTY
“THAT WAS QUICK,” Jonah called from the kitchen, his back to her. He stirred something in a pan, the smell of eggs mingling with the sharp bite of coffee and the faint sweetness of their vanilla air freshener.
Ruby didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her stomach churned, her hands trembling at her sides.
Jonah turned, a spatula in one hand, concern flickering across his face as he took her in. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone shifting, the teasing edge replaced with something softer.
“Did you know?”
Jonah blinked, setting the spatula down. A hesitant chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart.”
She took a breath. “Did you know your sister was still alive?”
The color drained from Jonah’s face. He froze, his body stiff as the words hung between them.
“No,” he shook his head.
Ruby’s heart, which had been racing, stuttered. Relief edged in—until she noticed his eyes.
He couldn’t look at her.
He looked everywhere else, her feet, the door, the kitchen, but never her eyes.
Her stomach lurched, bile forcing its way through her throat.
Ruby took a step back. Then another. The world tilted, her vision tunneling until her back hit the front door.
“Ruby—” Jonah started.
No.
Her legs gave out beneath her, and she sank to her knees on the carpet. Panic clawed at her chest, but before she could spiral further, Jonah sprinted to her. He dropped down in front of her, his hands steadying her shoulders.
“Don’t,” she muttered, shoving him away without thinking. The force sent him sprawling onto his back.
Jonah groaned but didn’t protest. He sat up slowly, his shoulders slumped, his hands resting on his bent knees, a man defeated.
“Explain,” Ruby demanded, her voice icy and controlled.
Jonah lifted his head, his brow furrowed as he searched for the words. But no matter how long he floundered, they didn’t come.
“She’s a thermy,” Ruby said, barely audible but breaking the tense silence. “I saw her eyes myself. I gave her to the TCA. Why would you tell me she died? Are they holding her? Why would they let her back into the public? Why—”
It hit her, the weight of the truth slamming into her chest like a battering ram.
“It’s real,” she breathed.
Jonah paled. Then nodded.
And just like that, the world as she knew it ended.
“How long have you known?”
“The day after I got the call about my sister,” he admitted, his words spilling out in a panicked rush. “They told me about the cure. That they’d give it to my sister if I caught Edward. I told them I wouldn’t hurt thermophiles, that it was cruel. So they let me track humans instead. But I technically didn’t lie about her being dead, she did die, the way all thermophiles do, and they didn’t think they would be able to bring her back after—”
Her laugh cut him off, hollow and brittle.
Years. He had known for years.
