Only Ever Yours (29 page)

The elevator keeps going down, further into the ground than I have ever been outside of my most feverish nightmares. The doors open into a room I’ve never seen before, a waiting room of sorts. Wrought-iron chairs, gray
concrete floors, steel-plated walls. A loud buzzer sounds and a red light above the heavy steel door before me flashes.

The buzzer sounds again. I move toward it, almost involuntarily. The door handle is icy to the touch. I walk into a corridor. It’s dark, muted-yellow bulbs melting into the walls. The path drops, the darkness deepening, swarming in to blind me, and I have to hold onto the frosted wall for guidance until I see a crack of light before me. It’s seeping out from underneath a door and I fumble toward it, patting the wall until I find the handle.

Inside, I blink in the dazzling white room, the edges cut with steel. When my eyes adjust to the glare, I can see that it’s a vast laboratory, about the same size as the Hall. One wall is made up of steel shelves lined with clear glass jars. In each of them what looks like a tiny chick-chick carcass is floating in fluid, wrinkled and red-raw. Lining the other wall is a row of clear boxes, each containing a naked sleeping woman. They’re bald too, held in a standing position by white belts secured around their feet, waist and head. The left arm of each one is strapped into a machine, red wires wrapped around their bodies like bulging veins.

“I’ve been expecting you.” A man approaches me. He’s wearing the white cloak of the Engineers, a white mask covering his face. Thick furry eyebrows are knitted together over pale brown eyes. “#630, isn’t it?”

I can’t move.

“Now, stop wasting time, girl. This is important.” I stare at him blankly. “You want to help me with my research,
don’t you? Don’t you want to be of some use?” He walks toward me, snapping white gloves on. Snap. Snap.

I look at the naked bodies marinating in the clear containers. Some of them look so familiar, evoking memories of high jinks and raucous misbehavior, dropped trays in the Nutrition Center, raised voices screaming at the chastities.

“You know what we do with girls who break the rules, don’t you? We send them Underground. Do you want to go Underground, #630? Do you?”

I should be afraid, but all I can feel is the loss of her.

“I heard about your friend.” He inches closer to me. I do not want to think about her. I am tired now. I am so very tired. “This won’t hurt, I promise. You won’t feel a thing.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s right,” he says. “You could say that it will feel like nothing.”

Is this how isabel felt before she jumped? Did she feel ready, so very ready, for it all to be over?

I hold out my arm, offering myself to him. The needle sinks into my skin, the liquid whispering,
forget, forget
, to my blood. I can feel it burning through me, licking at my veins with thousands of tongues.

I am ready now too.

I am ready to feel nothing, forever.

None of this would have been possible without my parents, my two favorite people in this world. I love you both more than words can say.

I want to thank my sister, Michelle, for being as excited about my novel as I was, if not more. I hope you know how much your support has meant to me.

I’ve been blessed with incredible family and friends, far too many to list here. I must, however, mention Katie Grant, who read the first three chapters and encouraged me to keep writing, and who gave me a place to stay in London whenever I needed it. I’m equally indebted to Jonathan Self for his generosity, kindness, and advice.

I’m so grateful to the team at Quercus for all of their hard work. I was lucky enough to have a great editor, Niamh Mulvey, and
Only Ever Yours
is immeasurably better as a result of her insightful notes.

Thanks also to George, Milly, Philippa, and all at the Capel & Land agency, but especially to the lovely Rachel Conway. Thank you, Rach, for understanding what I was trying to achieve with this book from the very beginning.