“I wouldn’t be wrong if I did.”
“Some anger is good, Tess. It can fuel you. Give you purpose and determination when things seem impossible. But too much anger and you’ll implode. It muddles your brain.” He went back to cleaning his gun.
“I’m not here for a damn lesson,” I snapped.
“Then what are you here for?”
I lifted my shoulders back and stood straight. “I want you to take me to him.”
“To who?”
“Abrams.”
“Who the hell told you?”
“Does it really matter? I want to speak to him.”
“Like hell it doesn’t matter! If I have a leak, I need to stop it,” he countered. He stood and hoisted his gun over his shoulder. “It shouldn’t be too hard to trace. I’ll start with your friend Henry.” With a grunt, he pushed past me.
I spun around. “You owe me this!” I yelled.
My father froze. I watched as every muscle in his arms and back tensed. Temper. Despite trying to hide it from me, it was something we shared. He took a deep breath before turning around to face me. “Owe you?”
“Yes, owe. I don’t even care why you left anymore, but the fact remains that you did. I had to sit there and watch my mother drink herself to death. To watch Emma die in childbirth. To trek through the woods to find that my little sister was manipulated. That she could die. And I did it without you!”
I clenched and unclenched my fists before continuing, trying to ignore how heavy my head felt. “I got your letters. I know that you always wondered if having children was the best idea. But that doesn’t matter because you did have children. Children you abandoned.”
“I left because it was the only way to stop—”
“Who? The council? The government that you feel abandoned you, right?” I walked toward my father, forcing my anger down, pulling up an emotion that I liked to keep hidden. “You came back here and made me believe you were that person—that man I cried for at night, but you’re not him. Are you?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“No one is who they were back then. That’s how we’ve survived,” he replied, averting his eyes. Maybe he did it because saying it meant acknowledging everything we lost, or maybe he looked away because it was a lie. I wasn’t sure, and I probably would never be sure about his intentions again.
“But at what cost?” I countered, blinking back the tears. When my father couldn’t answer, I nodded. “Right. You brought that man into my home; you risked the lives of everyone I loved to keep him hidden. I deserve to know why.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Five minutes. I just want five minutes,” I said “Show me that all of this has a reason. Prove to me that I wasn’t just a pawn.”
“I…” My father’s voice trailed off, and I could sense that his determination was wavering.
“If you did this for Louisa and me, then give me what I need. And I need to talk to him.”
My father gave a curt nod. “Fine. Follow me.”
…
As I trudged through the woods, I went through my list of questions for Abrams. Questions I feared the most because they would lead me to the answers that changed my world. Would the answers make me feel better? Or was I better off not knowing?
James’s letters had told me the council knew Abrams was missing, and that they were doing everything in their power to find him. Despite his notoriety, he was still important to them. I couldn’t help but wonder why. There was no way he was an active creator; it was some miracle of science that he even still lived. But what would the council want with a man who could only bring them shame?
“How did you get Abrams?” I called out to my father, who walked ahead of me.
“The council kept the monster moving. Always on the go from one compound to another. They kept him gagged, chained, hiding in cellars and basements. Naturals never knew the reason for their damnation lay right under their feet.”
“But why?”
“Why does anyone keep something? Because it has purpose,” he said, looking back at me over his shoulder. “They needed information. Information Abrams refused to give, no matter what they did.”
I furrowed my brow. “What kind of information?”
“The kind that could change the world.” He paused. “We ambushed one of the transports. Killed the captors and took him.”
“Just like that?” I refused to believe that anything to do with my father was so simple.
“Just like that,” he deadpanned.
“I can see where I get my great communication skills from,” I said.