The Unfortunates(29)

I open my mouth and then stop. I’ve never been asked a personal question before. I’ve never been asked what my favourite colour is or whether I like to wear my hair up or down, nothing. It occurs to me, in this moment, that I have no idea. I’ve never spoken about myself because someone else is genuinely interested. He waits patiently for me to answer and for a brief second, I wonder if he’s playing a game with me. Is this a trap?

“I don’t know…” I whisper, afraid someone else will hear. “I’d care about my family, if I had one. I’d care about nature and music—and reading. I would care about humanity.”

In the darkness, I can feel him watching me. I’m staring back, too, and I’m thankful he can’t see.

He clears his throat and returns to his back. “That’s the difference between Fortunates and Unfortunates. That’s why the strong prosper. Caring for things gives others access to your soul. Do you know what someone could do to you if they knew you inside and out? They could destroy you. Unfortunates are weak… and in this world, the weak suffer.”

“Weak…” I repeat, breathing and blinking quicker to stop sudden tears from restricting my throat. “Right.”

I draw my knees in, curling up into a ball in Kade’s bed. I’m not sure how long I stay like this, but I do know it gives me some semblance of comfort.

“Perhaps I moved too fast earlier,” he admits. “Tomorrow we’ll work on something a little more your speed.”

“Yes, Master Kade,” I say and he pushes himself off of the bed.

I want to ask him where he’s going, but then I realise I don’t care. I want him gone. I want him to sleep somewhere else, not here in this bed with me. In the dark, he manages to gather all of his things and leave, locking the door after him. I roll onto my back and kick off the blankets. That conversation goes to show that no matter how kind a Fortunate is, their virtues will never change. They’ve been taught since birth that equality doesn’t matter… that their life is more precious than ours, and for the first time in my life, I realise just how depressing my existence really is.



∞ Kade ∞



Kade stormed down the hall, adjusting his tie. How’d she do it? he thought. How’d she get me talking? He began to roll the sleeves of his shirt, stopping the fabric just above his elbows. Kade had told Nine more about himself in that ten minutes than he had anyone his entire life—not even Elizabeth knew about Kade’s leaf collection and they’ve been friends for as long as he could remember. Thankfully, Kade was able to catch himself and rectify their relationship before he opened up about anything else. I’m the Fortunate. She is the Unfortunate. She has no business asking questions… she has no business being curious.

Kade knew for certain that she couldn’t stay in his room, but he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight, not with Vince snooping around and making threats. Adding to his already lengthy list, Kade had to protect Nine from Vince and teach her how to please a Fortunate all while keeping her from his head and finding out what’s happening in his mine. Things were getting complex, much more complex than he’d planned. Towards Nine, he needed to remain detached and cold. He didn’t know how, but Nine had a strange way of making him feel inclined to protect her...to comfort her. Maybe it was her eyes, the beautiful pale violet wasn’t a colour he’d seen before. They were striking—captivating—they made him want to do vile, perverted things to her and it didn’t help his resistance any knowing he could do whatever he wanted to her, whenever he wanted. One bat of her eyelids had Kade hard and ready to throw his plan out the window for the slightest taste. The other… well, the other made him think of his mother… before she was killed. Kade’s mother was a humanitarian. She loved people, regardless of their stature. Growing up, Kade would help his mother do rounds at the Sario manor, feeding soup to their overworked and underfed Unfortunates. No one else treated them like people, even though Kade was certain they were the same.

‘I’d care about humanity…’

Kade gritted his teeth. Of course humanity was as important to Nine as it was to his mother the last night he saw her. Was this a cruel joke? Was his mother pushing at him to remember what she taught him from beyond the grave? Was there a reason Nine fell into his life? Questions bounced around Kade’s skull; he refused to entertain any of them.



Mom swiped her hands over her face, collecting falling tears. I don’t understand why she’s crying. She never cries this hard before she leaves with Dad to go into the city.