Page 148 of Chaos

So I don’t argue as we run out into the cold and up the hill toward the Garden Wing and the ballroom inside to eat what will apparently be one of our last meals at Thornewood.

And I don’t argue when we get there and Ottilie finds us almost immediately.

She stretches out her hand to Frankie and asks, “You’re Yorke’s wife?”

“Yep.” Frankie shakes her hand like she didn’t just flip the earth on its axis. “And you are?”

38 |The point of all thischaos

FRANKIE

HER LAUGHTER IS GENTLE.

A tinkle that reminds me of windchimes.

Of all the things I expected this not-quite blonde to do when I called her Lavinia’s Assistant Dictator, it wasn’t to laugh.

But she does.

And her warm brown eyes are soft as she says, “Guilty.”

I don’t think it’s true softness though—not that I think it’s artifice, it’s more … I think there’s much more to this woman than meets the eye.

I lost my tact in the fire, not that I was an expert to begin with. Politics was never my forte, but neither was bluntness. Iused to trend more toward hiding or avoiding my problems than confronting them head on.

It feels like the spirit of Ruby is in me at the moment though, so I don’t even worry with being polite and say, “I’m coming to DC.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She moves closer like I’m the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen. “I hear you’re an inspired gardener. We’ve been working on some vegetable gardens along the National Mall and the banks of the Potomac. We’d love your input. Is the little one coming, too?” she tips her head toward Auden. “I saw him with you in the pool house. I know the look of a new family well by now.”

“Yes.”

“We have wonderful teachers, and many programs for children.”

I’ve come this far, so I go ahead and ask, “Why were you taking children?”

Her smile fades. “Taking children?”

“When we left DC, everything we knew of you involved people being chased down the streets, rounded up, kids taken.”

“Ahh.” She sighs. “I’m afraid that was my doing actually. We found a couple kids who’d been … let’s just say taken in by people with bad intentions. I suggested to Vin that we separate families initially so they could undergo screening.”

I glance up at Yorke to see if he’s buying it, and his face is unreadable.

She searches our faces. “You’ll be as safe as I can make you in DC. You have my word. We take governance seriously, and that means everyone. Even kids who can’t speak for themselves. Not all of them found good people to care of them.”

Yorke doesn’t comment.

And I get it.

If I could tuck him on a shelf and expect him to stay there, I might feel like the world was safer, but he’d never stay.

And I don’t think he really wants me to.

What he really wants is the same thing I want. I want the world to make sense. I want the world to be organized, trustworthy, reliable.

I thought killing Ben would make it that way, or at least make it more that way.

But the truth is, even before the plague, there were no guarantees.

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