Page 32 of The Flame

And let’s not forget, there was nothing rehab could do to them that they hadn’t sanctioned, hadn’t condemned countless women to.

“The councilmen have too much power,” I said carefully. I didn’t want to fight about this. “I won’t release them into The Smoke. They’ll claw their way back into Capra, with or without the Protectorate’s help.”

“I don’t like it, but I hear you. Rescuing all the councilmen could be too dangerous. I can’t manage five of them, but I can manage Julian Edgar.” His voice brooked no argument. This wasn’t a matter for debate. “I’ll take him into the wilds.”

“Okay.” I didn’t agree, but I would do this for Roman. “We can include Julian in the rescue mission, if it all works out. But there’s only one plan, we’ll only get one attempt at this, and I won’t jeopardize Daniel.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Roman stood to fetch a bottle of wine and we spent the rest of the evening strategizing. Our plans were loose, mostly vague options thrown into a pot, but it was a beginning.

We refined the plan over the next two days as I familiarized myself with the layout of the rehab building and coaxed further details from Axel.

The graveyard shift was our best window of time, when the rehab center was manned with a skeleton staff. No receptionist on duty and only the one guard stationed there. The overnight ward nurses. The on-call doctor, possibly, depending on whether he decided to be on-site that night…or if we were particularly unlucky and he was called in for an incident.

According to Axel, Ward Red was usually locked down overnight and my security card didn’t give me—or any of the other nurses—access. Thanks to Roman’s insistence that we include Julian in our plans, this was a major hiccup.

After more persistent digging, Axel mentioned an intercom system between the nurses’ stations. He’d been telling me about an emergency. He’d needed a sedative for one of his patients, and he didn’t have access to the controlled-drug cabinet. He’d had to call the nurse from Ward Red out to get the sedative for him.

Slowly but surely, we were batting away potential problems.

By the end of the second day, Belinda and I had finished with Ward X. All but two of the women had been released. We didn’t feel they had a safe environment to return to.

Janice told us to leave it with her. “The council families have been relocated to the Legislative District, and there are several large homes standing empty.”

“That was quick.”

“The sooner everyone moves on from their old lives, the better,” Janice said. “And we’re repurposing some of the properties. Rose has established a halfway home for women at the Otter residence. That should be a good fit.”

That evening, Roman and I reached a disturbing conclusion. We’d been going around in circles with various plans, but onlyone was almost foolproof. It was simple. Brute force tactics. Our best shot at succeeding. But whichever angle I looked at it, I would not be able to cover my tracks.

I stared into the glass of red wine I was nursing in front of the fireplace. The storm had blown itself out before fully manifesting, but winter was here, and Roman had taken to lighting a fire for us each night. The cabin had heating, but this was more romantic. We were taking all the little moments we could get, in between strategizing this plan that was about to blow my world apart.

“There’s no other way,” I said. “Too much can go wrong. Besides, I’ve been thinking about this. It’s going to be obvious it was an inside job, and Geneva knows how I feel. She’s not stupid. She’ll put two and two together and realize why I wanted to be assigned to the rehab center in the first place.”

“She won’t have proof.”

“Trust me, that doesn’t factor into any of her decisions,” I said. “She locked up the heirs, not because they’ve done anything wrong, but because theymaycause problems one day. The risk is too great all around. If I stay in Capra, she will have me arrested. And if we go with a weaker plan that protects my role in this, it could fail, and she’d probably come after me anyway.”

Roman and I drank our wine and thought on it, and he eventually conceded. “We have the apartment in The Smoke. You’ll be safe. The Protectorate doesn’t have the bandwidth for Capra’s troubles right now.”

“And even if they did, I’m handing them the heirs.” That’s where their allegiance would be right now. I would be safe. That wasn’t my concern.

There was also Roman to consider. He was my husband. We were irrevocably bound together in all our deeds—and misdeeds.

“What about you?” I asked. “Will this cause trouble for you with the wardens?”

“The wardens are committed to remaining impartial for the moment.” He didn’t sound concerned, but maybe he was downplaying it for my benefit. “I won’t throw it in their faces, and I won’t be acting in any official capacity as a warden.”

“Geneva won’t see it that way.”

“Geneva’s personal grudges won’t affect me.” He shrugged. “Besides, there’s no reason for me to be in Capra. I’ll put in for a transfer. That should make everyone happy.”

“Except for James.” The senior warden was fully invested in Roman’s personal future and ambitions. That’s why he’d brought Roman to Capra. He was in the process of stepping down and ushering Roman into his position.

“Except for James.” Roman cupped my chin and searched my eyes. “What aboutyou? You would be leaving Capra behind. Your family. Your friends. It will be a long time before you’d be able to return. Maybe never.”

Could I really do that?

---