Page 6 of Indigo

“It’s obvious they are not.” Salem shrugs and plays with her oatmeal. “Do they need four months to get us IDs? For a society who thought we were extinct, they are very comfortable leaving us here to rot.”

Her words make my stomach drop. I shift in my seat and start on my cereal to ignore the fear creeping in. I don’t want to rot here. I was forgotten once. I can’t go back to that miserable life.

“They wouldn’t rescue us just to forget, right?” Journey asks with a tremor in her voice.

“I heard Dominic was fired,” I blurt out.

As soon as the words tumble out of my mouth, I suck in a breath, wishing I could take them back. This is not information I should have anyway, and saying it feels like I’m just scaring everyone even more.

“Where did you hear that?” Nova lifts her eyes from the paperback in front of her.

“I accidentally eavesdropped. I didn’t mean to.”

I’m small, and I try my best to stay on the sidelines to avoid conversation with others. Sometimes I hear things I shouldn’t. People only notice I’m around when they do something wrong. Then I’m the first to shout out a curse. I wish I wasn’t that quick to anger, but I am, so I make sure to keep it together when I’m in control of myself.

“When did you hear that?” Salem whispers, eyeing me suspiciously.

I wince. “A while ago. It didn’t feel like it mattered.”

“Of course it matters!” Journey’s jaw drops. “The man who rescued us is gone. So we are at the mercy of people we don’t know.”

“We don’t know Dominic,” I remind her. “We saw him once.”

“And he killed our rapists and set us free.” Journey blinks at me like I’m crazy. “He’s my favorite person in the world, for all I care.”

My face heats with shame. I don’t like to upset Journey. I know what she means, and I want to be grateful, but it’s hard to just open my arms and believe. Especially when we know so little about what is actually happening.

“It’s not a good sign that they fired our rescuer.” Nova cleared her throat, cutting into our semi-argument. “Do you think it had anything to do with the rescue?”

“It’s weird as fuck that they brought us to this abandoned motel,” Salem added. “Shouldn’t we be a big-ass deal? But they put us in an abandoned motel in the middle of nowhere, and that’s it?”

She’s right. I’ve been so scared that our rescue is not a rescue after all and that I ignored the obvious red flags. Regardless of whether we are the reflection of the Goddess like Manuela taught me, Omegas are still the pillar of our society, so I have to wonder.

Why aren't they making a big deal out of us?

The question never leaves my lips, but I can tell we’re all thinking the same thing. My bland breakfast loses its already shitty appeal, and I push the bowl away from me. My eyes trace every wall with peeling paint, destroyed furniture, and overall dismay of the place we are. Decor hasn't been at the forefront of my mind, so none of it bothered me, but now, it screams abandonment.

“We should ask them,” Salem says at last.

“Ask them?” Journey’s voice trembles.

She shrugs. “Why should we be in the dark? They should tell us what is happening.”

Yet none of us make a move to approach an Alpha and start an interrogation. In the breeding houses, we were treated as less than the mold growing in the walls. We had no rights, no voice, no room to question. If we ever asked anything, even if it was something that didn’t feel like it was sensitive information, they would laugh in our faces.

I bring my legs up on my chair, and I hug my knees, trying to look as small as I feel. The moments tick by, and the subject changes, but my mind doesn’t rest. Maybe they can talk about something like this and move on to other businesses, but I can’t. I push on my feet, and the three of them stop talking and gawk at me.

“Not hungry anymore.” It’s all I say as I move away.

My heart hammers, begging me to turn around, but I don’t. If they are telling the truth that we don’t have to fear anything, what is the problem with marching to the office and asking what is going on?

The packs are using the office behind the front desk as their business center. I never wanted to know any of the Alliance business, but now I see how naive I was. I shouldn’t be passive like this, not when I’ve been held hostage for my whole life. With rebellion in mind, I march to the front desk, only hesitating for a second before I shake it off and round the counter. I’m just going to knock on the door and ask them about our situation. I’m not doing anything wrong. We are allowed to know if suddenly they will drop us into the world with no money and no security numbers or birth certificates.

The reality of our situation slams against my chest, and the decision becomes clear. I definitely want to know what their plan is.

The office is not directly behind the front desk like I imagined, but instead, at the end of a small corridor, which I follow. My fist rises to knock on the door, only to find it slightly open.

My steps halt, and I approach it carefully, planning to announce my arrival, but everything stops when I hear Nash saying my name. I don’t catch what he says, but my name is loud and clear. My fist falls, and instead, I edge closer without making any sound.