I pressed myself into the wall as the elevator slowly rose and more women in gray climbed on, staring at me. I had forgotten that I wasn’t in gray.
I pushed through the doors the moment the elevator stopped and darted through the atrium, beelining for the Pods. Whispers accompanied the stares.Her eyes don’t match. How can she be in color?
A buzzing filled my ears, my body too hot and cold at the same time. At some point I had begun to run, weaving amid the gray until I spotted sunshine hair. I skidded to a stop before Lo.
Shock radiated from her. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but you’re not in gray.”
“It’s a long story,” I muttered. “I’ll tell you everything. Let’s just get out of here.”
We worked toward the front of the line. People in gray stepped out of our way. I started to ask Lo about her yearly, but a whistle filled the air like the one I had heard in my office—a signal from one supporter to another.
I turned to find a man in gray staring directly at me. His eyes flew from my wrist before piercing me with a glare. He whistled louder, as if warning someone about my approach. My heart began to pound.
“Come on,” Lo urged, pushing me onto the waiting Pod.
I recognized the way the supporter had looked at me. People were rising up against the Illum. The Illum controlled the Press. The Illum assigned roles, status, Mates. The Illum controlled everything. And I was an Illum’s Mate.
He had looked at me like I was a threat.
ONCE I REACHED THE SAFETY OF MY LIVING QUARTERS, I RESTEDmy head against the door, closing my eyes as tears attempted to gather there. The loneliness of belonging nowhere was crushing.
A soft knock sounded on my door, and I let in Lo, who carried a sad plastic mush container, but she was beaming.
“I’m approved, Emeline, I’m approved,” Lo exclaimed, bouncing from one foot to the other.
“Lo! That’s amazing. How do you feel?”
“Like I’m floating in the clouds,” Lo gushed, spinning. “No more gray. I’m going to wear the most glamorous gowns and dance at balls.”
I laughed as she waltzed around my room, the plastic tray her soon-to-be dance partner. Relief coursed through me. I wouldn’t be entirely alone in the clouds. I retrieved my meal from the black box and returned to Lo, scanning my room. For one wild heartbeat, I thought Hal had left something.
“So where should we eat?” Lo asked. There were no tables or chairs. I had always assumed our rooms were bare due to shortages. Having seen the Elite’s living quarters, I knew it was to deter us from this, from forming connections.
We sat on the floor, and I ate quickly, my body still screaming for sustenance after my run.
“Start from the beginning,” Lo instructed. “I need to know everything.”
I told Lo about last night. How one of the Starlings had gone missing, how Collin couldn’t make it to the dinner with my birth family, the mysterious blue dress, how my father had told me he would eliminate all Defects if he could, to which Lo gasped in horror. My run and my meeting with Collin this morning. I told her about Collin urging me to run to him. How Nora, his twin, Phillip, and Gregory were there.
“Nora said Phillip was like a brother to her,” I confessed, my appetite disappearing. “It hurt. My birth family has a life up there, and they have deep relationships.”
“I won’t pretend to know what that feels like,” Lo said. “My birth mom was a Minor as well, and I was her only offspring. My birth father’s an Elite, but I’ve never met him. He didn’t want me when I was deemed a Minor. I was a failure. My birth mother ended up in the Sanctuary due to my defects. Then she ended up in blue after me. She told me I had failed her. I was her ticket up, and I messed it all up. Her last words for me were that she hoped I was Mated and my offspring was exactly like me so I would know the shame.” Lo fell silent, staring at the floor.
Sadness and anger squeezed my heart. “Lo, I didn’t know.”
Lo shrugged. “I don’t like talking about it. It’s not fun being a failure before you ever got the chance to try, you know.”
I did know. How many women in this building had the same story? Maybe we could find comfort in one another if they didn’t pit us against one another from the beginning. If we were taught to be one another’s allies instead of competition. How different would these halls be if we cared for one another?
“It’s why a contract matters so much,” Lo confessed, unwavering determination in her stare. “If I could just have a successful mating, then I can prove her wrong.”
I looked at Lo, truly seeing her for the first time. I reached out, grasping her hand. “Let’s show her what she missed out on.”
Lo smiled at me, her eyes brimming with tears. “Tell me what to expect up there, Emeline.”
So I did. We talked about everything I had experienced in the clouds, including the Press and the article, until it was almost curfew.
Lo stood, stretching, and made her way to the door. “Thank you, Emeline, for everything.”
