Page 28 of Silver Elite

want

to

go

home.

I bite my lip hard.

Do not cry in front of this woman.

Jayde slides her chair back.

Where is she going?

Where are you going, you feckless quat!

“What’s going on? Where are you going?”

She ignores me. At the door, she flicks her cool gray eyes at Mr. Silent.

“She’s clean. Do with her what you see fit.”

Jayde exits the room. I feel the path close, the mental connection break, yet I maintain the decoy. While Mr. Silent swipes a finger over the screen of his tablet and Ford stands there in silence, I allow the false thoughts to run rampant for another sixty seconds.

It’s only when I’m finally thinking my own thoughts again that the wave of relief slams into me. Primal and dizzying.

I did it.

I actually did it.

I fooled Jayde Valence.

I open a path to tell Jim, only to feel the hot stab of agony in my chest. I keep forgetting the link isn’t there anymore. The reminder is gut wrenching, and it takes all my willpower not to keel over in tears. He’s truly gone.

Why did my shield hold up against Jayde when his didn’t? How was I able to decoy my mind and Jim couldn’t—whenhe’sthe one who taught me how to do it in the first place. He was far more skilled at decoying than I could ever be, so why—

Because of me.

Dread grips my throat as the thought occurs to me. What if Uncle Jimdiddecoy his mind during his interrogation, feeding Jayde a train of thought that deliberately led her away from me?

With my composure in danger of crumbling, I order myself not to think about Jim. Not here, and not now. Later. Think about him later.

Mr. Silent moves his finger across the screen one last time before addressing Ford. “Put her in Stock C until I’m ready for her.”

Until he’s ready for me?

Becausethatisn’t ominous.

—

The cell is painted a dull shade of gray that hurts my eyes. There’s a metal sink and toilet in the corner, and a single bed that takes up most of the limited space. I assume this is where the base holds its prisoners. It’s cramped and cold, but at least this room has a window, making it an upgrade from the last one.

After the door locks with an electronic beep, I climb onto the bed and try to peer out the window, which is barred and grimy. It’s set too high to offer a view of anything beyond the bleak concrete courtyard one story beneath it.

I sink onto the worn mattress and breathe in the stale air.

Do with her what you see fit.

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