Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Everyone will remember Jasina Bell—the young rebel who found the Looking Glass, which is… well, who knows? It’s probably the thing that changes everything.
A smirk grows on my lips and a chuckle escapes my mouth as I walk over to the bookcase and open it up.
Everyone but Finn Scott will remember, that is.
Because he’s too drunk to even know I was here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The sound of voices wakes me, but when I immediately sit up out of instinct, I am met with a pounding in my head the likes of which I have never experienced before. I hold it in my hands, thinking about long-ago days when drinking myself sick was a proper way to celebrate after semester exams. I smile here, despite the hangover, and push the drinking aside to recall how much easier life was back then when we were young. And I know we’re not old, not even thirty yet. But this last week has aged me into another generation. Or so it feels. Maybe I’m being dramatic?
I lift my head up from my hands and open one eye. A tried-and-true method when the room starts to spin.
It’s not spinning. That part of the binge happened last night, probably when I was asleep, and then—
There is an abrupt end to whatever thought was coming next because I suddenly remember what I was doing last night.
Or was it a dream?
It has to have been a dream.
I look down, find my dick practically hanging out of my pants, and suddenly I can smell her. It wasn’t a dream. There was a woman here. In my mind, I’m calling her Clara, but also in my mind is the image of a redhead.
I stand up, suffer the consequences for nearly a minute with my eyes closed as I put my dick away, and then open them as I let out a long breath, looking around. “There was a woman here, I can smell her.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. There was no woman up here.”
I turn and find Mitchell on the other side of the room sitting at my desk furiously writing something. “What are you doing here?”
He looks up at me, scowling. “You smell. Take a shower. I’m writing your schedule for today’s Little Sister bullshit. We’re three days behind at this point. You can’t miss it, so don’t even try me right now.”
I just stare at him, trying to understand the implications of his words. “What time is it?”
“It’s time to take a fuckin’ shower, that’s what time it is.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing. Annoyed.
“It’s nine-thirty.” Mitch doesn’t even stop writing. Or look at me again. “Your first meeting is at eleven.”
“What meeting?”
Now he looks up. His expression says—well, it just comes right out of his mouth so I don’t really need to interpret it. “Why are you such a pain in my ass? Have you forgotten everything? It’s day one, Finn. Snap the fuck out of it.”
Our eyes are locked at he says this and I’m still processing when he looks away, apologizing. “Sorry. I… that was too soon and… thoughtless of me. I’m just trying to keep going here, Finn. We’re behind with the Little Sisters and the schedule is a complete mess. But there’s no way to skip this day. You have to meet with each one individually and give them initial scores. The people are… well, they’re handling all this change about as well as you are. Which means they’re not handling it. There was a mob of people outside when I came back this morning.”
“What? A mob? Why? What did they want?”
“They want to talk to you about last night and how you acted. They want to know how you’re gonna punish Gemna for talking back. Traditions are important in Tau City and last night was…” He shakes his head. “Fuck, who am I kidding? Tradition went awry several years back now. It’s just they didn’t notice. Well, after last night, they’ve taken notice.”
I walk over to the desk and pour myself a glass of water from a pitcher, then guzzle it down before continuing the conversation. “Who was in this mob?”
“All of the Council. The mayor. A bunch of wives. And a few scholars from the College of Philosophy and Logic.”
“The War College? Why?”
“Because… well, everyone thinks the god is pissed off at us. And it’s the duty of the War College to predict irrational behaviors.”
“Of the god?”
“Who else?”
“Did they predict last night?”
Mitchell laughs. “What do you think?”
“I think they got it wrong. I think they got it all wrong. I think everyone got it wrong.”
I’m looking at Mitch when these words come out so I watch his expression change into deep worry before my eyes. “You said something last night. Something you didn’t finish.”
“Well”—I chuckle and rub my forehead—“I’m sure I said a lot last night.”