Flawed (28 page)

I look at her in surprise.

She looks at me in surprise.

“What happened to you?” I ask.

“Never mind me, what happened to you?”

The bruise on my forehead has come up nicely, an enormous, cartoon-sized bump that today has turned a shade of yellow and black. My face is scraped from the twigs and branches that cut my skin as I ran blindly through the trees in the darkness.

I sit in the armchair and wince from the pain in my stomach. My ribs aren't cracked, but they may as well be.

“Celestine,” she says with urgency in her voice and nothing but concern on her face. So I have to drop the act. “What happened?”

I sigh. “Turns out there wasn't a party. Not for me, anyway.”

“You were set up?”

“Ambushed, I believe the word is.” My eyes fill up at the memory of it, which is still raw in my mind and in my body. Each time I move, I feel the aches.

“That kid who invited you?”

“Logan Trilby. L-O-G-A-N,” I say slowly, sarcastically. “T-R-I-L-B-Y. Aren't you going to write that down? Oh, no, of course not, nothing that might make people pity me.”

Her eyes are angry, but not at me. “You don't want people's pity, Celestine.”

“I actually do.” I half-laugh. “I want everybody's pity, because then I will know that everyone is human, instead of whatever it is everybody is now.”

She sits down in the armchair across from me, but not delicately and prissy as before. She's on the edge, feet parted, elbows on knees; she's getting down and dirty today.

“What did he do?”

“Not just him. He had a few friends. Their mission was to humiliate me.”

“And did they?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.” She's being soft and patient, but underneath it there's a sense of urgency about her today, nothing calm and calculated like our previous conversations. The first time we met, Pia was in “Pia TV Personality” mode, then I saw “Off-Duty Pia,” but this woman is new, this is a side to her I've never seen. I have been gullible in the past, but I believe this person.

“They put a sackcloth bag over my head, tied me up, hit me, kicked me, dumped ashes on me, stripped me, and locked me in a shed. That about covers it.”

I don't mention their forcing the alcohol into my mouth—that would get me into trouble, even though I had no option. I'm not going to take my chances, not even with Pia in this mood.

Her eyes turn cold. “Logan Trilby. And who were the others?”

I give her fuller details and she shows her disgust, discomfort, and empathy in all the right places and I believe that she cares.

“So what's happening?”

“Nothing. My dad arranged for everybody to be at the police station today. Principal Hamilton, Natasha, Logan, Gavin, Colleen. Their parents, apart from Angelina. Logan's parents have vouched for him, said he couldn't have had anything to do with it, because he was in Bible study.”

“They don't believe he was lying?”

“
They're
lying. They say he was with
them
at Bible study.”

Her mouth falls open. “What about the other kids?”

“Natasha and Gavin blamed Colleen, said she masterminded the entire thing, in retaliation for something that happened between me and her mom.”

“What happened?” She naturally switches into her journalist mode.

“Can't tell you. Natasha's dad is some fancy lawyer, started jabbering on about human rights and his daughter protecting herself from a Flawed. The police aren't going to do anything about it. They let the school punish us. My dad went crazy. Gavin and Natasha were suspended for two days. Colleen is expelled, but it doesn't matter, because Bob Tinder was fired as editor of the newspaper—”

“Believe me, I know,” she interrupts, and her eyes start racing again as I see her mind ticking.

“I forgot he was your boss. Anyway, they're moving. You probably know that, too, so it's hardly a punishment. Colleen will have to start at another school anyway.”

She shakes her head, seemingly appalled.

“Pia, there's one other thing I'm worried about. Last night, when they stripped me”—I swallow hard, feeling the humiliation all over again—“they photographed me. They've seen the sixth brand and have proof of it.”

Pia focuses hard while she thinks it through.

“The thing is, they were afraid of it, they backed away after that. So I think they know not to say something, but sooner or later it's going to come out. Natasha's bound to let it slip to someone. She couldn't keep a secret if you paid her.”

“But they don't have the video,” Pia says. “We need to get our hands on that video. And we need to move on this story fast.” Pia starts pacing again. “We need to break it before they do. Before Crevan hears their rumors and has a chance to spin it, if he's not working on that already.” She looks around the room to see if anyone can hear us. “This morning I learned that there's an inquiry into Crevan,” she says, her voice a hush. “A private inquiry. The outcome of your case, Angelina Tinder, Jimmy Child, Dr. Blake, they've all got people talking.”

“Who's Dr. Blake?” The name's familiar. Granddad mentioned him to me during the trial. He said I needed to find Dr. Blake and somebody else. It didn't seem important at the time. I was putting it down as his conspiracy ramblings, but I should have taken note.

“Dr. Blake is the woman who misdiagnosed Crevan's wife, Annie,” she says. “Your granddad told me to look into her at your trial, and I fobbed him off as a crazy old man. I started looking into it, though, after meeting you. She didn't catch the cancer in time. Crevan found her Flawed just before Jimmy Child's case. She was found Flawed on another personal matter, much like Angelina Tinder was. The case had nothing to do with Crevan's wife. I would never have caught the link until your granddad tipped me off.”

Good old Granddad
, I think proudly. He was always on my side, but I, too, thought his views were extreme. If he got Dr. Blake right, perhaps he's right about it all.

“Crevan is using the Guild as his own private court,” I say.

“I believe he was planning the Dr. Blake case for some time. The outcome gave him confidence to proceed with Angelina and Jimmy Child. He got away with them, but now people are questioning his decisions.”

I roll my eyes. “A Guild into the Guild?”

She smiles weakly. “Kind of. A private inquiry into a public one.”

“Well, let me guess the outcome. The Guild will find that the Guild acted perfectly and appropriately. Ta-da! Inquiry over.”

“It's an investigation into Judge Crevan only. Members of the government feel he has been abusing his powers. Remember, this began as a temporary fix to look into wrongdoing. It has become far more than that and grown faster than the government has had time to control it. The lines are blurring between legality and Guild rules. The government wants to take back its power.”

“People like Enya Sleepwell.”

“Exactly. Because of pressure by her, a private commission has been set up to first investigate the cases privately.”

“Privately,” I sigh. “They hide well, these rational-thinking concerned people.”

“Not everyone is as brave as you are.”

I look for the sarcasm in her voice, but there isn't any.

“You know.” She sits down. “A new journalist arrived on the online scene a few days ago. She's getting popular, very quickly.”

“Jealous?”

“A bit.” She smiles. “She's a fan of yours.”

I'm surprised. “Who is she?”

She takes out her tablet to show me. “Her name is Lisa Life.”

I snort.

“She's on your side. She's part of a new news site called X-It. They have millions of readers every day.”

She flicks through her tablet to show me the article. The headline reads,
IF I WAS SUCH A HERO
,
THAT OLD MAN WOULD BE ALIVE NOW
.
I FAILED
. Underneath that is a pretty picture of me sitting by Clayton Byrne's grave site and lighting a candle, with the quote, “I helped an old man to a seat.” I hadn't known I was being followed that day. I should have been more careful, especially after escaping school to visit the guards and Mr. Berry in Highland Castle. I read on.

The story is about how my actions on the bus have made the Flawed issue a human rights issue. Clayton Byrne's death is the first recorded death of a Flawed through negligence of society, a society that was following rules. Yet those rules led to the death of a man. There's a quote from Enya Sleepwell, “I'm not condoning what Celestine North did, but her actions, and recent comments, raise serious and valid points that must be questioned and answered by our government. If we are to question the rule of aiding a Flawed, then surely the entire system must be questioned.”

I look closely at the photograph of Enya and recognize her as the woman with the pixie cut who nodded to me each day in the crowd as I was jeered and jostled on my walk across the courtyard at Highland Castle.

“Lisa Life published this today,” she says, handing me a new article from a folder.

“Compassion and Logic: The Perfect Pairing. Our Perfect Leader?”

There is a photograph of me, looking strong and determined, standing in court. I don't remember ever feeling how I look in the photograph. It's a girl, no, a woman, whom I would trust, a woman I would think is strong and powerful. A woman who appears to know exactly what she's doing. How deceiving appearances can be.

Pia dumps article after article on top of my lap, one after another, so quickly that I have time only to take in the headlines and the photographs before another lands on my knees. She spreads them out on the coffee table. More and more. Images of me, page after page of stories and familiar quotes, so much that I don't recognize the person I'm seeing.

“This is all Lisa Life?” I feel embarrassed, feel my cheeks blush. It's overwhelming to see all this support.

“No, not all of them. I gathered as many supportive articles as I could. There are many more, Celestine.”

I can't believe that people I have never met think so highly of me. If they had seen me on my knees, begging and cowering in the shed in front of Logan, taking back everything I had done … Pia interrupts my dark thoughts. “Do you see what's happening? The power you have and don't even know it?”

I laugh bitterly and feel the ache in my ribs and in my pounding, pulsating head. Earlier this week I thought I could take on Crevan; all day today I've curled up in a ball and cried, admitted defeat.

“Power? I got locked up in a shed by four people in my class, and the police and the school don't care. They can't help me. Two people I love most in the world betrayed me. I can't even stay out after eleven
PM
. I have no
power
, Pia.”

“Yes, you do. You know you do. The power doesn't just lie in the sixth brand on your spine, but in the strength you've had in getting it. What you did on the bus, what you said at the trial, the way you faced Crevan. I've worked at the castle for ten years, and I've never seen anyone speak to him like that. Now use that power and hone it, because you're going to need it with what's to come.” She sighs. “The thing is…”

My heart hammers, and I brace myself.

 

FIFTY

“I'VE BEEN TRYING
to meet with Mr. Berry,” continues Pia. “I've called his office, cell, home, every number I have for him, and there's no answer. I went to his home, and his husband doesn't know where he is. Says he's been gone for weeks and hasn't heard from him. None of Mr. Berry's clients have heard from him, nor his staff, though they think he's on a sudden holiday as he was inclined to do that, but I know that's not the case this time. Not with what we know, Celestine.”

“Maybe his husband knows where he is and won't tell you. Everyone knows you're Crevan's media girl. Why would he trust you?”

“I told him I want to find the truth. He says he doesn't know where he is, and I believe him,” she says firmly.

“Why doesn't he call the police?”

“He doesn't think the police can help him,” she says quietly. “He's afraid.”

I swallow hard. “Let me guess. Mr. Berry disappeared after Naming Day. Just like Tina, just like June, Bark, Funar, and Tony.”

She nods.

“Do you think he's hiding or that he was taken away?”

“I don't know, I really don't know. I went to Tina's house yesterday. It's boarded up, all the furniture still inside, like they just upped and left. Her teenage daughter is gone, too. Her school hasn't heard from her. Tina's divorced and not close with her family, so they weren't surprised she hadn't been in touch the past few weeks. I've called Bark's, Funar's, June's, and Tony's houses, but their families won't talk to me. I haven't visited them yet. I think they're more likely to speak off the phone, but guessing from Mr. Berry and Tina, I'm expecting the same thing. They're all too afraid.”

“So now there's no video of what happened in the chamber?” I say, my eyes filling up. “Everyone who saw is gone, and it's my word against Crevan's.”

But that's not true, and I'm the only one who knows it. Carrick was there, Carrick saw what happened. Would anybody believe a Flawed witness? And has Crevan managed to get his hands on Carrick, too? Does Crevan even know he was there? Did he see him? Am I next? Should I be worried?

“I can't write the story without proof,” Pia says. “I'm going to need more time.”

“You still don't believe me, do you?” I ask angrily.

“Of course I believe you.” She raises her voice and stands. “Do you have any idea how much I've risked already for you?”