Page 54 of Silver Elite

“You can talk to whoever you want. But in order to complete the Program, you have to complete shielding. And in order to do that, we need to test your shield.”

The Mod—Amira—stands there expressionless. Like a statue in her short-sleeved top and slim pants. I wonder if she’s forced to deal with this nonsense at the onset of every session.

“Anybody else have objections?” Struck asks the class.

Nobody speaks.

“Good.” She nods at Amira, who crosses the room toward an empty table in the very back. “We’ll start with Granger. Please go join Amira.”

The tall brunette is visibly ill as she rises from her chair. Her legs are actually shaking, and I almost feel sorry for her. I’m well aware that people are afraid of us. I’ve witnessed it myself in Hamlett, the fear and apprehension on villagers’ faces when they talk about Mods. But it’s been a while since I’ve seen someone this terrified to be in a Mod’s vicinity.

Everyone is curious, watching as Bryce sits down, arms folded tight to her chest, eyes downcast.

The entire exchange lasts all of thirty seconds. Amira studies Bryce for a moment, taps something on her tablet, and then dismisses the traumatized woman. Ivy, Bryce’s seatmate, is up next.

After a while, my fellows get bored. Watching a woman stare briefly at someone else isn’t the most stimulating of activities. Soon they occupy themselves by making disparaging comments about the Modified, some of which are outright lies.

“My aunt said their blood is toxic,” Betima’s seatmate says in an obnoxiously assertive tone. As if she’s speaking fact. “If they have an open wound and their blood gets intoyourbloodstream, it can instantly kill you.”

A snicker slips out.

She glances my way, frowning. “What?”

I shrug. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“My aunt said—”

“Your aunt is an idiot.”

Kaine chuckles, but I notice Lyddie isn’t smiling. She appears worried, her light-brown eyes darting to the back of the room where Amira now sits with Lash.

I lean closer. “You okay?”

She swallows, her face a tad pale. “I don’t like the idea of an Aberrant poking around in my brain.”

Too late, I almost say.

You’re not good enough.

I still think about Lyddie’s internal mantra. It still saddens me.

“And what if she touches me by accident?”

I can’t stop the disappointment that tightens my throat. I don’t know why I expected Lyddie to be more accepting. Maybe because I was starting to view her as a friend, and my friends would never worry about the dangers of me touching them.

I have to remind myself that she is a product of her upbringing. Her mother works for the Company. Her father, the Command. She was raised to hate and fear me.

But it still hurts a little.

“They can’t control your mind by touching you,” I assure her.

“You don’t know that.”

“We would absolutely know if that were the case. If their touch was harmful, then we’d have records of that, right?”

I turn to Betima for backup, but she doesn’t seem comfortable with the discussion. When I glance at Kaine, his expression is stoic.

“Holy hellfuck, you guys, they’re not monsters!” I say in exasperation.

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