that disgusting display, my child was dragged away, and I haven’t seen her! I want to see her!”
I approached them with an air of confidence and intervened. “Allow me to handle this, Officer Lodge.”
Lodge dipped his head and stepped away. Most of the time, if I acted like I was in control, people listened to me. It was simple and effective.
Once Lodge was down the hall, I bent in toward Mr. Singer. “You can’t talk like that here, sir. You saw what just happened, and that was over a kiss and an unzipped dress.”
America’s dad nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. I know you’re right. I can’t believe they made her watch that. I can’t believe they did it to May.”
“If it’s any consolation, America’s maids are very devoted, and I’m sure they’re taking care of her. There was no report of her going to the hospital wing, so she must not have gotten hurt. Not physically anyway. From what I understand”—God, how I hated saying this out loud—“Prince Maxon favors her more than the others.”
Mr. Singer gave me a thin smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “True.”
Everything in me fought against asking him what he knew. “I’m sure he’ll be very patient with her as she deals with her loss.”
He nodded then spoke under his breath, as if he was talking to himself. “I expected more from him.”
“Sir?”
He took a deep breath and stood up straight. “Nothing.” Mr. Singer looked around, and I couldn’t tell if he was in awe of the palace or disgusted by it. “You know, Aspen, she’d never believe me if I told her she was good enough for this place. In a way she’s right. She’s too good for it.”
“Shalom?” Mr. Singer and I both turned to see Mrs. Singer and May walking around the corner, carrying their bags. “We’re ready. Have you seen America?”
May left her mother and quickly tucked herself into her father’s side. He wrapped a protective arm around her. “No. But Aspen will check on her.”
I hadn’t said anything of that nature, but we were practically family and he knew that I would. Of course I would.
Mrs. Singer gave me a brief hug. “I can’t tell you what a comfort it is to know you’re here, Aspen. You’re smarter than the rest of the guards combined.”
“Don’t let them hear you say that,” I joked, and she smiled before pulling away.
May rushed over, and I bent down a little so we were on the same level. “Here are some extra hugs. Could you go by my house and give them to my family for me?”
She nodded into my shoulder. I waited for her to let go, but she didn’t. Suddenly she pushed her lips to my ear. “Don’t let anyone hurt her.”
“Never.”
She gripped me tighter, and I did the same, wanting so badly to protect her from everything around her.
May and America were bookends, alike in more ways than either of them could see. But May was softer around the edges. No one sheltered her from the world; she sheltered herself. America had been only a few months older than May was now when we started dating, making a decision most people older than us would never have had the guts to face. But while America was aware of the bad around her, the consequences that could come if things ever went wrong, May practically skipped through life, completely blind to what was worst in the world.
I worried that some of that innocence had been stolen from her today.
She finally loosened her grip, and I stood, holding a hand out to Mr. Singer. He took it and spoke quietly. “I’m glad she has you. It’s like she’s got a piece of home with her.”
My eyes locked on his, and again I was struck with the urge to ask him what he knew. I wondered if, at the very least, he suspected something. Mr. Singer’s gaze was unwavering, and, because I’d been trained, I searched his face for secrets. I could never begin to guess at what he was hiding from me, but I knew without a doubt that there was something there.
“I’ll look after her, sir.”
He smiled. “I know you will. Look after yourself, too. Some would argue this post is even more dangerous than New Asia. We want you to come home safe.”
I nodded. Out of the millions of words in the world, Mr. Singer always seemed to know how to pick the handful that made you feel like you mattered.
“I’ve never been treated so harshly,” someone muttered, rounding the corner. “And at the palace of all places.”
Our heads collectively turned. It sounded like Celeste’s parents weren’t taking the request to leave very well either. Her mother was dragging a large bag, shaking her head in agreement with her husband, flicking her blond hair over her shoulder every few seconds. Part of me wanted to walk over and hand her a pin.
“You there,” Mr. Newsome said to me. “Come and fetch these bags.” He dropped his suitcases on the floor.
Mr. Singer spoke up. “He’s not your servant. He’s here to protect you. You can carry your own bags.”
Mr. Newsome rolled his eyes and turned to his wife. “Can’t believe our baby has to associate with a Five.” He whispered the words, though he obviously intended for all of us to hear.
“I hope she hasn’t picked up any of her sloppy manners. Our girl’s too good for that trash.” Mrs. Newsome flicked her hair again, and I could see where Celeste learned to sharpen those claws of hers. Not that I expected anything more from a Two.
I could hardly look away from Mrs. Newsome’s wickedly happy face, except for the muffled sound next to me. May was crying into her mother’s shirt. As if this day hadn’t been hard enough already.
“Safe trip, Mr. Singer,” I whispered. He nodded to me and escorted his family through the front doors. I could see the cars were waiting already. America was going to hate that she didn’t get to say good-bye.
I walked over to Mr. Newsome. “Don’t let them bother you, sir. Leave your bags right here, and I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”
“Good lad,” Mr. Newsome said, and patted me on the back before straightening his tie and pulling his wife along with him.
Once they were outside, I walked to the table near the entrance and pulled a pen out of the drawer. There was no chance of me getting away with doing this twice, so I had to decide which one of the Newsomes I hated more at the moment. Right now, it was Mrs. Newsome, if only for May’s sake. I unzipped her bag, stuck the pen inside, and snapped it in half. I got a dot of ink on one hand, but seeing as I had thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes in front of me to wipe it on, the mark was quickly taken care of. I watched as the Newsomes climbed into a car, then threw their bags into the trunk and allowed myself a small smile. But while destroying some of Mrs. Newsome’s clothes was satisfying, I knew it wouldn’t really affect her in the long run. She’d replace them within days. May would have to live with those words in her ears forever.
I held the bowl close to my chest as I lifted forkfuls of eggs and chopped sausage to my mouth, eager to
