Page 36 of Silver Elite

“I’m trying, Wren. I swear I’m trying. But they don’t…”She trails off.

Care.

That’s what she doesn’t want to say. They don’t. Fucking. Care.

“Keep trying,”I tell her. I can barely get a full breath in now, as it becomes glaringly obvious that nobody is going to help me.

I inhale through my nose and take another stab at Xavier Ford’s mind. It’s locked up tight, as is Hadley’s, leaving me no choice but to turn my attention to my peers.

I hesitate. Fight the urge to pry before convincing myself it’s for the greater good. What’s the point of having this power if I refuse to wield it?

Unsurprisingly, the other recruits are all shielded. One of the first laws General Redden enacted after his coup of the previous regime was that all Prime children on the Continent must be taught to shield from the moment they enter lower school. Unfortunately for them—but fortunately for us—proper shielding requires a lot more training than an hour or two of weekly visualization.

If I tried, I could probably penetrate most of these shields, but I don’t have the patience or the time to sweep one mind at a time. I settle on my seatmate, because she’s right here, and her expression gives me pause. She’s watching Ford intently, hanging on his every word. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.

She has a serviceable shield, but it’s not quite thick enough. More like a malleable metal, soft enough that with the poke of a fine needle I can penetrate it. I open a path, and sure enough, I soon catch the faintest echoes in her mind.

You’re not…

…not good…

…good enough.

You’re not good enough.

The thought repeats in her head, even as she bites her lip and concentrates on Ford’s words.

I immediately retreat.

Fuck.

This is why I’m so loath to do this. Mind reading is the greatestinvasion of privacy that exists. And everyone, even Primes, deserves their privacy. Your mind is the one place where you should feel completely and unequivocally safe. People like me rob you of that refuge, and each time I read an unsuspecting mind, I hate myself a little bit more.

There’s no place for morality in war. Deep down I know this, know Ihaveto use the weapons in my arsenal. But sometimes, when I’m overhearing someone’s deepest insecurities, I’m reminded of why I’m seen as the villain in other people’s stories.

My seatmate’s inner monologue tugs at something inside me. She’s so matter-of-fact. Not forlorn. Not resentful.You’re not good enough.A statement of fact, coming from someone who accepted that truth a long time ago.

It makes me soften in a way I don’t usually soften.

I lean closer to her and whisper, “I’m Wren.”

She jolts in her seat, looking over at me. After a beat, she whispers back. “I’m Lydia, but everyone calls me Lyddie.”

I nod at the front of the room. “This guy loves the sound of his own voice, huh?”

A smile touches her lips.

“…before you’re divided into your cells and we officially get under way,” Hadley is saying, “turn your attention to your source. Each of you will be required to answer ten questions. Please start now.”

I glance at my screen.

There was a woman in this room when you sat down. What color was her shirt?

I stare at the question. Beside me, Lyddie is busily writing on her source.

All right. This is clearly some sort of test.

The question is, is it a test I want to pass…or fail?

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