Page 91 of Storm Caller

“They weren’t. But I guess believing I might be dead reminded them that they’re my parents.”

“Oh,” she says, an emotion flashing behind her eyes that I can’t interpret. It almost feels like irritation. “That’s nice.”

“What about your parents?” I ask, curious about where things stand with the Robinses.

Her face flushes, her cheeks turning red. I don’t think it’s from shame but rather anger. “The same as before,” she says, her smile tight. “I’ve been disowned, and they have no reason to remember what I meant to them.” She waves her hand. “So, I guess I did you a favor.”

“Well . . .” I say, but she’s already turning away. I wouldn’t exactly say that, and I’m a little surprised by her audacity.

“Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon.” Then she’s walking away, wiping her eyes, leaving me standing alone.

I hear her talking to someone down the hallway, and I inch forward to peer around the corner. It’s Lieutenant Dire, and she’s still sniffling as she wipes her nose with the back of her hand. He clasps her shoulder, and watching her find comfort from this man makes my stomach churn.

“Let’s go,” I hear him say in a low voice.

He takes her elbow, and they start to walk away, but not before he looks over at me. Our eyes meet, and his gaze narrows.

I was cleared of the charges he helped bring against me.

But that doesn’t mean he believes I’m innocent.

I pause as my breath cements in my windpipe.

Trinity sniffles, and Dire turns away before they both disappear around the corner.

Once they’re gone, I step out from the shadows, roll my shoulders, and head back to the cafeteria, understanding that whatever plans I have for Trinity are about to put me directly in Lieutenant Dire’s path.

31

The following Saturday, Rook and I arrive at the base of Fiama Society Tower A. Thankfully, second year comes with a lot more freedom, and we’re allowed to leave Amery whenever we want as long as we’re attending classes, keeping our grades up, and returning before curfew every night.

Instead of sneaking into the building like last time, we go through the front entrance. The doorman, Cyril, is sitting at the desk, his hands folded over his stomach and his chin resting against his chest while he snores softly. A single strand of his snow-white hair flutters in a nonexistent breeze. The familiar sight drenches me in warmth. Despite everything, I miss this place.

Rook stands quietly beside me, dressed in his casual Amery uniform with his more formal jacket draped over it. He’s slicked back his hair a little, tamed out some of the wildness, and I suspect he’d never admit it, but I think he was trying to look nice for my parents. He didn’t need to, and I don’t want him to pretend he’s anything other than who he is, but the gesture is sweet nonetheless.

“Should we wake him up?” he asks, nodding to Cyril. I notice the old man’s mouth curve into a smile, and I imagine that he’s having a nice dream.

“Nah, it’s okay. Let him sleep.”

We brush past and head for the sleek bank of elevators. Above us are rows of cameras with small red lights reminding us that, despite outward appearances, security is tight. Rook eyes them warily as he stuffs his hands into his back pockets, like he’s trying to keep himself from fidgeting. Thankfully, the sky is clear tonight, so he won’t also have to deal with the resulting discomfort of a brewing storm.

“It’ll be fine,” I promise, and he responds with a dry laugh. “Hey, I survived your dad. You can survive mine.”

Rook blows out a breath and runs his hand through his hair, effectively undoing his efforts to tame it back. It’s perfect. This is far more him. “Fair enough.”

“Who do you think is scarier?” I ask as I press the button. “The high commander or the scion?”

Rook huffs. “That’s a good question. For me, your dad for sure.”

“Yours is no kitten,” I remind him, and he kicks up a smile.

“That’s until you get to know him better.”

The tenderness in his voice makes my chest ache.

The elevator slides closed before we ride up in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts and the churn of our nerves.

We reach the penthouse with a soft ding, and then I’m standing before the door.