Page 57 of Inception

“Was that the only reason I took an interest?”

I nodded.

“What other reason would there be?” His eyes were as menacing as black ice. I never knew eyes could be so cruel.

The lump in my throat tightened as tears of frustration began to pool in my eyes, blurring my vision.

How could I have been so stupid?

“Oh, I see,” smiled Dominic, rising from his chair in one fluid motion. “You want to know if I liked you? If I ever felt anything for you? If you were ever more than a pawn piece in my game of chess?” He was laughing now, mocking me, pouring pails of saline onto my already burning wounds.

I felt tears begin to trickle down my cheeks, and I slapped them away, angry that they’d fallen without my consent. I was hurt, and humiliated. And I’d heard enough.

“I want to go home,” I said, my chin quivering as I fought to keep the tears at bay.

“Aw, don’t be like that, angel. We’re just getting started.”

“Come on,” said Gabriel as he rose to his feet and offered his hand. “I’ll take you home.”

The rustling silhouettes of trees bowed back and forth before us as they zipped in and out of view. There was something gripping about their sway, almost prophetic, like they knew the secrets of the world and rocked to the music of its lies.

“Can I ask you a question?” asked Gabriel, pulling me away from my private thoughts and back to the present drive.

“You just did,” I pointed out.

He frowned at my petulance.

“Go ahead.”

“Were you—” He paused to look at me, his expression pensive. “Were you in love with Dominic?”

The question caught me off guard. Not because of its delivery or implications, but because I wasn’t even sure what the word meant outside of the familial sphere. I skimmed Gabriel’s composed face as I repeated the question to myself:

Did I love Dominic?

“No,” I shook my head. “I didn’t know him enough to love him.” It turned out I didn’t know him at all.

“But you cared for him?”

“I thought I did,” I said, feeling embarrassed by the admission. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

“No.” He answered without looking away from the road. “You had no way of knowing.”

The kinder, more forgiving side of myself wanted to believe that, though the other side couldn’t help but feel emotionally bruised by it, like I should have known better.

“What are you going to do about him?” he asked, gripping the steering wheel firmly. His all-business demeanor was even more rigid than before, if that was even possible.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to tell theCouncilabout what happened?”

I heard my uncle mention the Council in passing—that they were the elected officials of The Order responsible for overseeing all matters regarding Descendants in everything from training, to tracking, to analyzing threats and assigning missions—though I had yet to meet with them personally.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, examining his profile. “What would happen if I told?”

“He’d probably be sanctioned for death.”

“He’d bewhat?” My eyes widened in horror.

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