is gone.
I admit I’m tempted to hoard every nibble, but I have enough faults. I don’t need to add greedy and selfish to the mix. I’m trembling as I split the bar and throw half to Bow.
Her mouth forms a small O. She’s lying on her bed, the covers bunched at her feet. “You’re sharing with me?”
“You say that like I’ve complained you’ve been using half our air.” I stuff the bar in my mouth, my eyes closing in bliss as I chew and swallow. Oh, wow. Oh, yes. I owe Killian big-time. My hunger fed on my hope, each day becoming more depressing than the last. Right now, I could sing and dance through the cell like a freaking Disney princess.
I guess I owe Sloan, too. She risked punishment to help me.
Wait. Why did she risk punishment? And why did Killian send her, of all people? Are the two friends now? More than friends?
My hands curl, my nails digging into my palms.
“You’ve been living on shower water.” Bow still sounds shocked.
“So have you.” If Vans shuts off our pipes—and I have a sinking feeling that will be his next move—we’ll be reduced to drinking from the toilet.
“You’re wasting away while I have untapped resources.” She smooths a hand over her rounded belly before tossing her ration at me. “Here. I’m not hungry.”
How can—
Whatever. I’m not going to argue with her. I devour the offering.
She anchors her hands behind her head and peers at me. “I know your parents want you to sign with Myriad, but why send you to a place like this to get the job done?”
“My dad is desperate. He loves his job and the money he makes, the power he has.”
If I do sign with Myriad, maybe I can get them to rejig their slogan/motto/whatever. I’d go with... I don’t know... Sharing Is Caring!
The thought makes me smile.
“He actually thought paying someone to beat you into submission was the perfect solution?” She snorts. “Has he met you?”
I hike up my shoulders. “Fear makes people stupid.”
“For sure. Fear destroys. Hope is always the answer.”
I like that. “When I was a kid, my mom used to say something similar. She grew up with Troikan parents.”
Bow perks up. “What made her sign with Myriad?”
“My dad, mostly. Oh. And the rigidity of Troikan law. She complained a lot.”
“Well, don’t believe the hype. No civilization can thrive without rules of conduct, and all of ours fall into one of three categories. King, realm and self. But everything boils down to this. Treat others the way you want to be treated, and hold no grudges.”
A tri-tier of rules...which makes sense. Troika means a group of three people working together, especially in an administrative or managerial capacity. My numbers-obsessed mind makes the connection, and gives me a little thrill.
“In a word,” I say, “unconditional love.”
“The foundation of all good things.” Sheepish, she adds, “As you’ve noticed, I sometimes have a wee bit of trouble with the grudge thing.”
“Yeah, but that aside, I thought Troika was anti-emotion.”
“No one is anti-emotion.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Feelings matter, but they can change in a blink, making them an unreliable guide.”
Over the intercom, the usual voice announces, “Tenley Lockwood. Your parents are waiting for you in Dr. Vans’s office.”
I tense with nervousness, maybe even a little eagerness. My mom actually kept her promise?
My dad has visited once every other month. When I asked him about my mom, he said, “We’re currently separated, living apart. She’s decided seclusion is better than family.”
She left him...and me.
Bow climbs to her feet. “If at any time you decide Troika is the place for you, verbalize your allegiance. That’s all you have to do. Your word is your bond.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
