Page 201 of Silver Elite

“How long has she been like this?” I ask from the doorway.

He finally acknowledges my presence. “Catatonic? Maybe the last five years.”

“And before that?”

“She had to be sedated all the time. She was too violent. The voices made her angry.”

I walk over and take the drink from his hand, gulping the rest of it before passing it back. He swiftly refills the glass.

“She’s Aberrant?” I prompt, because he didn’t answer me the first time.

Cross shakes his head. “Schizophrenic.”

The response surprises me. It doesn’t feel right. Yet I don’t get the sense he’s lying to me.

For a moment, he buries his head in his hands. Then he lifts it and meets my baffled gaze. “She was fine for most of my life. It started off slowly. I think I was around twelve when she started getting irritable, paranoid. Said her thoughts felt scrambled. She was having trouble concentrating. And then one day, she said there were voices in her head. She was hearing and seeing things that weren’t there.”

“And you’re sure she’s not Aberrant?”

“Her veins don’t turn silver, not even when she hears the voices.”

That doesn’t mean anything. Yes, if Vinessa is Modified, she would be the first Mod I’ve met whose veins don’t turn silver, but I know Mods like that exist, because, well,Iexist.

And if she is a Mod…Well, the irony that the General’s wife is one of the toxic ’fects he despises is almost comical.

“What did your father do when she was diagnosed?”

“He hid it. Hid her away.” Cross gestures in the direction of her suite. “She hasn’t left that room in years, other than to go for walks in the garden with the General.”

“Do you have staff to take care of her?”

“She takes care of herself. Most of the time, anyway. She gets up. Gets dressed. She eats the meals that are delivered to her. She walks in the garden. She just hasn’t said a word since I was seventeen years old.”

“But before that, she was hysterical and paranoid?”

He nods. “When the voices were louder. Before she went completely catatonic, she told us they were getting quieter. Whispering rather than shouting.”

I think about the fragmented people in the hospital ward, the ones who are still violent and fighting whatever is happening inside their minds.

“The voices eventually drove her insane, and now she’s like this. She doesn’t speak. She’s confused. And every now and then, she stops eating out of the blue. Our cook called and said she hasn’t eaten in two days. Usually when that happens, we need to bring a doctor to put in a feeding tube. But she doesn’t enjoy that.” His expression pains. “I don’t want that for her.”

“I’m…so confused. How does he deliver those broadcasts and talk about rooting out weakness in society when his wife is mentally ill? Didn’t he euthanize like thirty people when the Command busted that illegal psychiatric center in Ward B?”

Cross’s answering chuckle lacks any trace of humor. “He loves talking about weakness, doesn’t he? He might not admit it, but he knows whathisweakness is. My mother. He would never allow anyone to euthanize her.”

When Cross tried to hold my hand in the helicopter earlier, I pulled away. This time, I’m the one reaching for his hand. I lace my fingers through his and touch his cheek with my other hand, stroking his jaw.

“Cross. I’m really sorry.”

Several seconds tick by. Then he lets out a breath.

“I need to go back and make sure she’s okay.”

“Do you want me to make her something to eat?” I offer. “Soup? Maybe if I try to feed her, she’ll think I’m a nurse or something and be more receptive.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course. I don’t want to see anyone suffer. I know I come off as a bitch, but I’m not heartless.”

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