Unforgotten(101)

Her voice trails off and I already see where she’s going. My brain may be one step ahead but my stomach has been left a hundred miles behind us, somewhere in the darkness of the ocean. “So you sent me back to 2013 to gain his trust.”

She nods. “Trestin just facilitated the introduction by placing you in the Carlsons’ home.”

“But he looked different,” I say, remembering Mr. Rayunas’s aged features and thinning hair. “Older somehow.”

“Just a disguise. I temporarily altered his genetic makeup to advance his age and add more weight to his body. The effects wear off in a few days.”

“And the plane crash?” I ask. “Was it your idea to plant me in the middle of all that wreckage? To make it seem like I was a survivor?”

Maxxer cringes. “The crash was an unfortunate side effect.”

“Wait. What?”

She breathes out. “Transession is complicated. Sometimes entries can cause small riffs in the surrounding energy. Especially if perhaps half of your brain was fighting against the trigger and the other half was obeying it. I didn’t intend for it to happen. But it was just a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time kind of thing.”

My eyes widen with horror. “You mean, I caused the plane crash!?”

“Collateral damage, I’m afraid,” Maxxer says, looking remorseful.

I flash back to the moment I awoke in that ocean. To the bodies floating lifelessly around me. Their faces forever frozen in fear. In horrible, terrifying death.

“All those people died because of me,” I say numbly. “And because of you.”

“This is war, Sera,” Maxxer says, the remorse instantly gone. “There will be casualties.”

I let out a choked sob. Everything I’ve ever known is crumbling around me.

This whole time I’ve been fought over. Torn in half. Yanked in two different directions. Manipulated to the point of murder. From both sides. And I never had a clue. I never knew about any of it.

“I never even had a choice.” I don’t realize that I’ve said this last part aloud until Maxxer responds.

“You have a choice now,” she says emphatically. “You can help me bring them down. The evil people who did this to you.”

I squint at her and then shake my head. “Don’t you understand,” I say, my voice trembling but intensifying, “you are just as bad as them! You manipulated this whole thing. You were controlling me from the very beginning! How can you stand there and lecture me about them? You are them!”

“Sera,” Maxxer tries, “that’s ridiculous. You can’t possibly compare me to those monsters.”

“I can!” I shout back. “And you want to know why? Because you are exactly like them. You use people to get what you want. You manipulate innocent minds to achieve your own goals. You steal people’s humanity, just as you’ve stolen mine!”

On shaky legs, I stalk toward the door. Out of the corner of my eye I see the guards make a move to intercept me but Maxxer stops them. “Let her go.”

“Oh, really!?” I spit back at her. “I can go? Thank you very much for your permission!”

The sarcasm is bitter and hot on my tongue. Cody would be proud.

I slam the door behind me.





56

PLACE



Once I’m on the other side of the door I fall to pieces. It took the last ounce of emotional strength I had not to break down in front of Maxxer, but now all of that is gone. I slide against the wall, allowing gravity, and the weight of everything I lost today, to drag me down.

The world is underwater. I view it through my relentless ocean of tears. My body is involuntarily convulsed by the sobs. My chest screams in pain. I let go. No longer trying to gather myself. No longer attempting to take deep breaths. What is the point? Breath. Air. Living.

They’re all illusions.

Deceptions created to make me think that I’m alive. That I matter. That I’m a human being.

I may have blood running through my veins. I may need oxygen and water and food to survive. But beyond that I’m merely a machine. A toy. A weapon of wars. And the victory will go to the side who can best figure out how to exploit me to their advantage.

I reach into my pocket and find my locket.

It feels worthless now. I am so undeserving of such a precious gift. Unworthy of anything that it once represented.

I flick open the door. A robot activating. I close my eyes.

I could go anywhere. I could escape. The possibilities are endless. I could live out the rest of my days—however long that might be—on a remote island somewhere. Where I can’t hurt anyone. Where no one cares who I am or what I’ve done.

Or I could transesse right into the mouth of a volcano.