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)
This is my path. This is my life. This is my destiny.
This is my path. This is my life. This is my destiny.
This is my path and I must accept it.
Because Finn Scott is not going to save me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Do you understand, Jasina?”
I’m replaying Auntie’s words back in my head as I lie in bed, trying to put the whole night out of my mind.
I nodded with determined assurance. “Yes. It’s not going to be easy, but I can do it, Auntie. You can count on me.”
I wasn’t really feeling this determination, or assurance, but I forced it out. If I didn’t, Auntie would berate me until I projected the level of confidence she was looking for.
The hour was already late. If I left right at that point, I would be lucky to get two hours of sleep before the Matrons woke us for Little Sister duties, and I was so exhausted, my vision was blurring. I never expected my time in the Little Sisters to be so… monopolized.
I smile, chuckling as I snuggle down into my soft, downy pillow, the warm comforter all wrapped around my body. I had counted on some good times here. One more gala gown, at the very least. At this point, I’m ready to burn my Choosing dress and forget those butterflies ever existed. It’s actually starting to stink, I’ve worn it so many times.
“Child.” After all her huffing, and puffing, and threats Auntie had placed a wrinkled hand on my cheek. It was surprisingly soft. “We’re counting on you. Do you understand how important this is?”
I didn’t. Still don’t. Not really. Up until this very meeting, being part of the Rebellion was just… an exciting prospect for adventure. Something that made me, a poor down-city girl, feel special. Like I was some sort of Chosen One.
And isn’t that the dream of every adventure-yearning teenager? That we are the heroes of our own stories? That the world revolves around us? That only we can save it?
“There would be a place in the history books for your name, niece.”
But my confusion was the last thing Auntie wanted to hear about, and I would like my name in the history books, so I just leaned into it. Fake it ‘till you make it. “I do, Auntie.” I conveyed my highest possible level of conviction.
“Good.” She smiled and sent me on my way.
It was mostly dark inside when I got to the dorm because it was well past lights out, but there were a few nightlights lit up in various places so I could make my way down the stone canal towards the far end where we stay. As I passed all the other girls, I caught a few whispers, but no one was paying any attention to me. They were all talking about Haryet.
When I got to our space there was a bright light in the far back seating area and this was where I found my friends.
They all stood when they saw me coming—wearing different versions of the gorgeous nightgowns that they found in their dresser drawers—and rushed towards me as I entered the common space. There were only a few electric candles burning, so it was still pretty dark, but I took a moment to admire the new nightclothes we’d been given.
They are mostly made of soft, thin cotton, but the seams and hems are trimmed in silk ribbons. My friends looked like completely different people wearing these garments. And I know they felt different too. They felt important and special for the first time in their lives.
This has also been weighing on me since I climbed into bed wearing my own version of the up-city nightgowns.
We are somebodies now.
Not because we agreed to be sacrificed, but because we are part of something bigger than ourselves. I must do a good job. I must make sure we succeed. Not to please Auntie, but because this is how I make my life mean something. This is how I make my friends’ lives mean something too.
I must succeed.
“Well?” Britley had asked. “What happened? Where have you been?”
Lucindy came up and grabbed my arm, tucking it up against her. “We thought something bad happened.”
Ceela and Harlow crowded in as well, waiting for my answer.
I took a long breath, held it in for a moment, then slowly let it out. “Girls.” I looked at each of them individually, trying to be the leader I was meant to be. “It has started.”
They held their own breaths then. They didn’t squeal, or giggle, or do anything stupid the way other young girls might when learning a secret.
They didn’t act like regular girls because they’re not regular girls.
None of us are.
We are the Rebellion.
“Help me out of this dress, sisters. We need our rest. God knows we didn’t get it last night. We’ll talk more after the sun comes up.”