Page 106 of The Truths We Burn

Lysander makes a plan to meet with me so that we can run away together. Free to be with one another for the rest of our lives, away from what everyone wants, away from my father that needs me to marry Demetrius, the man who will give me wealth and status. A man my soul refuses to love.

I’m no longer on this stage. I’m still in an auditorium, but it’s the one at my high school. I’m there with Rook, being confronted by his anger after he’d found out about Easton and me, about the engagement. Everything is the same, the knives in my chest as he begged me to tell him I was lying, that it was some misunderstanding. All of those feelings are here and alive, swirling around me.

Except it’s different. This time, instead of lying, instead of ripping his heart to shreds with my vicious lies, I tell him the truth. I tell him what I always wanted to say—that I was forced into an engagement to protect my sister, all for nothing.

“My good Lysander! I swear to thee, by Cupid’s strongest bow, By his best arrow with the golden head, By the simplicity of Venus’ doves, By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, And by that fire which burned the Carthage queen.” I pause, the scene so visceral, too real. It’s taking my breath away.

I shake my head, taking a breath and continuing. “When the false Troyan under sail was seen, By all the vows that ever men have broke, In number more than ever women spoke, In that same place thou hast appointed me.” I pause again, my voice cracking,

“To-morrow truly will I meet with thee.”

Hermia promises to meet him so they can run off together, a promise I wish I could have given to Rook. Words I wish I could’ve said. It hurts that I couldn’t say how I was really feeling, that I couldn’t give him my truths when it mattered most.

They say you never truly realize how much you care about a person until they’re gone.

And when he was gone? He took me with him.

But the smoke stayed.

It lingered, filling the hollow spaces.

The me I’d always wanted to be, he owned it, and I know I’ll never get it back.

Thinking of him, putting myself back there, makes my senses tingle. I can smell him again or rather, the smoke. I can smell weed, fruity and musky, assaulting my nose.

There is a sudden clap, a loud thunderous sound that takes me away from the scene, away from the past, and plows me right back into reality.

“Glad to know you still know how to lie.” His voice makes me shiver. “Sorry, act.”

I squint, searching the seats for his face, finding his shadow near the back, but he’s making his way up the aisle, coming closer to the light.

My gut twists when I see the cut on his lip. One that isn’t from Alistair or his father but me. I’d done that to him. While I was drowning in self-pity and rage, I’d taken it out on him, on Silas. And Rook, he let me. He let me hurt him.

A rolled blunt sits on his lips, the smoke swirling around his head as he stands at the front of the stage, looking up at me. The way his hair has grown out makes me want to measure it with my fingers. It’s tucked neatly behind his ears but still looks wild.

“What do you want from us?”

Straightforward and directly to the point.

Foolish of me to think he’d be here for any other reason than to question my motives.

“I already told you. I want to help catch Frank. I’ll do whatever you guys need. I want him gone. Once that’s finished, I’ll be out of here,” I answer truthfully.

“And what? I’m just supposed to take your word for it?”

“Silas did.”

This makes him halt.

After the Gauntlet, Silas showed up at my dorm to talk. I’d apologized for the things I said about Rose. I know it wasn’t his fault, but I needed to blame someone in that moment. It had been selfish of me to do that. He’d gone on to tell me that I’m already involved even if he doesn’t like it. That he’d rather me help them than do it myself and get myself killed. Because obviously, the people we’re up against don’t care about killing innocent women.

He’d agreed to my terms, allowed me to be a part of the future plans. But he made it very clear that after Frank is dead, I have to leave. He doesn’t want me here.

I don’t want me here either.

And while I’m sure Thatcher and Alistair weren’t happy about it, they supported his decision. But not Rook.

“Silas is letting his guilt cloud his judgment,” he assures me. “Silas doesn’t know you’re a snake in the grass. That you’re always playing a part. He doesn’t know you. Not like I do.”

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