16 - CLARA

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T he moment I open the door to my quarters Gemna is right up in my face, screaming . "Where have you been! I was looking for you and you just left me!"

"I'm sorry. Finn?—"

"That was cruel, Clara! Cruel ! We just lost our best friend to the tower and you left me !"

Out of some long-forgotten habit, I look over my shoulder, expecting to find a Matron somewhere in the hallways, ready to chastise Gemna for being too loud.

Which is ludicrous. They were around in the early years, especially the first year when we were all so young and rowdy. But that Matron I saw giving the Little Sisters a tour the other day was the first one I can remember seeing actually inside the Maiden Tower since Lucy Fisher took the walk.

Gemna's hysterics are increasing as I stay silent. Her makeup is streaked with tears, her voice is shrill, and when I take her hand, she's trembling. "I'm sorry, Gemmie. I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking. Finn just pulled me away and I… I just… went."

Gemna stares at me for a moment. Eyes wide, like she's terrified. And this is when it hits me. When everything hits me. All eight of the women who came before us have been Extracted. Gone. Lost. Forever. Never to be seen again.

And we're next. We both know it. We feel it in our hearts. This doesn't end until all ten of us are inside that fucking tower.

Which is a shock. Not the sentiment of it, but the reality of it. The realization that I am going to die and I am standing on the precipice of this death in this very moment.

It's not like I had been blocking it out. It's just… I think I was numb, or something. Or possibly conditioned to see these Extractions as something normal. Something common. It's just what happens to the women in the Maiden Tower. One moment they are here, one moment they are not.

And it's wrong.

This isn't normal. It's barbaric. It's a sacrifice. We are sending young women to their death to appease a god we've never even seen. The whole thing could be fake, for all we know.

My arms wrap around Gemna and I hug her tightly, holding onto her like the god himself might appear at any moment and drag her away.

She holds me back just as tightly. Because that bell is going to ring for me. And it could happen in the next minute, in the next hour, or any time at all.

My death is assured. And that means that Gemna will be sitting up here in our quarters alone. Waiting for the bells to toll one final time after I'm gone.

What a horrible way to go out. Not that it's not horrible for the rest of us, but to be alone when it happens? It's pure torture. And any god who demands this of his followers is evil and no god of mine.

Maybe the Matrons will let Gemna go home? So she could at least be with her family while she waits?

But I don't think so. They don't care about us. Their mission is to keep us in line. To make us poised, proper, and polite. So we don't question them.

So far, it's worked. Because… come on! Eight fucking women have now walked into that tower in the last ten years. And every one of them did it willingly.

Gemna pushes back now, frantically wiping her eyes, smearing black makeup and making a mess of her face. She sniffs. "Did Finn tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"About the gala tomorrow?"

"What gala? We literally just came from two freaking galas. Why would we need another one tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure, but the Matrons were all lined up downstairs after I came back from the Extraction— alone !" She sneers that last word at me.

But I guess I deserve it. It was a really shitty thing to do to her. And the worst part is, I never even thought twice about leaving her alone on the tower stage and following Finn back to his new place. "I'm sorry, Gemna. I really am. I will never leave your side again. It's us, together, until the end."

She stares at me for a moment. Then blinks and takes a deep breath, pulling herself back together. "I don't know what the gala tomorrow night is for, but the Matrons told me not to go anywhere in the morning. That the dressmakers will be here at dawn to fit us. Finn didn't mention it?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Did he say anything ? Anything at all about what the hell is happening?"

I blow out a long breath, then flop onto the nearest couch, kick off my shoes, and pull my legs up underneath my many layers of silk skirts. "Well, he did mention that there was no way he could help me if the bells rang again."

Gemna sits down next to me, sniffling. " What ? Why not?"

When I meet her eyes, I see the hope die. She has never said anything about my relationship with Finn or Aldo, never asked a single question in all these ten years. But she was going to ask for help tonight. Was going to beg, maybe, for me to find a way to get us out of our obligations using my connections to the Extraction District.

And now she knows that hope was futile.

"He didn't really elaborate. Just… well, it was a very firm no, Gemmie." I shrug. There's nothing more to say.

She grabs for both my hands, holding them in her cold ones, looking me straight in the eyes. "We're going in, aren't we? We're going in and it's gonna happen soon. There are only three more months, Clara. We could have hours, or days, or weeks. But that's it. We're going in ."

"Yep." It comes out on a long sigh and in a tone of resignation. Matter-of-fact and a little bit lighthearted, actually.

I think this tone surprises Gemna. Shocks her out of her panic too. Because she sucks in a very deep breath and when she lets it out, she is calm and composed. Chin up, eyes direct. Displaying every bit of her eighteen years of etiquette training. "What do we do, Clara?"

I shrug. "Go out like ladies?"

She locks eyes with me and we stay that way for a long second.

Then we both burst out laughing.

We pause, then it bursts forth again. Soon, we are having a full-on fit with tears streaming down our faces. Not tears of distress. Not entirely, anyway. But tears driven on by hysterics and the sudden, abrupt awareness that not only are we out of control, we never had any in the first place.

It's a manic state. Something that can only end one way.

And so it does.

We hug each other tightly and sob together.

At some point in the early pre-dawn hours I wake up and find myself alone on the couch. When I get up and check the time, I realize it's only three-thirty. Gemna is gone. I leave my quarters and go up to hers on the tenth floor, just because I need to know where she is. I find her in her bed, her gorgeous dress left in a heap on the floor, her breathing shallow and uneven. Like she's dreaming.

Or, more likely, having a nightmare. One that involves walking into that black tower at the top of the city.

I go back downstairs and stumble through the darkness as I make my way into my own room, struggling to get the laces undone along the back of my dress. Letting the heavy gown fall to the floor at my feet is a relief until I remember that I left my underwear on the floor of Finn's new palace, ripped to shreds.

How embarrassing. I'm mortified that I allowed Finn Scott to handle me so roughly. He was pulling my hair at one point. And that slap across my thigh—well, let's just say I can still feel the sting.

I cover my face with both hands, willing the memory to go away as the moonlight streams through the round window above my bed, chilling my naked body.

But I'm mostly sad about our tryst last night. Because he's never treated me that way. Our lovemaking has always been careful, and tender, and attentive.

What we did last night had nothing to do with lovemaking.

He was fucking me. The way a man might fuck a whore down-city in the Shipping District.

I want to erase the entire encounter from my mind, but as I slip into bed, I find myself reliving every moment. Every harsh grunt. The slap, the hair pulling, and the way he pushed me down over the back of the couch and kicked my legs open.

Then his fingers…

I let out a long breath, shaking my head and closing my eyes.

Don't think about it, Clara. Don't think about it. He wasn't himself. You weren't yourself, either. He didn't mean it. It wasn't a reflection on you. It was stress, and… fear, and… well. All the emotions.

The last time you trysted it was perfect, and soft, and slow.

Think about that time.

It takes several minutes, but I do manage to wipe our last encounter away and replace it with the other one. I close my eyes, steady my breath, and recite the relaxation mantra that I learned long ago, when I was still a Little Sister.

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.