Page 20 of The Art of Exiley

Of course, I haven’t been consulted about any of this. Do I even want to go to Genesis if I’m supposed to lie and steal from them?

Kor, as always, can read my mind. He squeezes my shoulders. “Ada, there is so much humankind is capable of, unknown potential buried in our genetics, untapped and untrained. Instead, we’re living half-lives.” There’s a flash of anger in his eyes now. “I don’t understand why the exiles have been so selfish until now. I really don’t. Just the Sire abilities and medical science alone—we’re slaves to viruses and disease, but not them. There’s so much suffering that could be mitigated.”

I’d asked Michael why the Makers hadn’t shared their medical knowledge, and his answer had been vague. If they do have the information that the Families claim, then I know Kor is right.

Kor sniffs, then sniffs again. He releases my shoulders and swipes his knuckles under his nose. They come away streaked with blood. He groans in annoyance as he pulls tissues from his pocket and tips his head back to stem the flow.

“You’re still getting those?” He’d told me his nosebleeds had stopped.

“They cabe back a few weeks ago,” he explains, his voice coming out distorted as he keeps his nose pinched shut. “Dr. Ambrose said it’s norbal frob all the stress, with planning the charity bedefit at the sabe time as studying for biterms. That’s why we postponed the album release tour.”

Because Kor is the type of guy who works himself until he’s sick, and then when something has to give, he deprioritizes his entire career to give all of his focus to his charity work and his commitment to the Families.

Meanwhile, I’m here whining about not being sure I’m ready to give the bare minimum.

As Kor wipes away the last of the blood, the determined gleam is still in his eyes. “Ada, the Families have spent centuries trying to live by the values of the masters, but that’s not enough anymore. Now that we know what’sout there, it’s our obligation to use that knowledge to help the rest of the world, even if the descendants of the masters themselves refuse to do so. Andyouare the key. This is your chance to crawl out of your comfort zone.”

My comfort zone, which is safely tucked into his shadow.

Kor has always asked for my help and advice. Feedback on his art and his songs, support behind the scenes during his tours and before interviews. Sometimes, when I feel crappy about my mediocrity, I take comfort in that. That I’m making a mark by being part of Kor’s journey.

And now he’s telling me I can have my own.

I want to be worthy of our order’s mission, to be able to prove all the doubters in the Chamber wrong.

The problem is that the biggest doubter is me.

5

I sleep through the entire next morning and part of the afternoon. It feels so good to wake up in my own bed. Ever since elementary school, when my parents split, Mom and I have lived with my grandfather in his old Bronx mansion. Any luxury it may have once had faded away long ago, but I love it here.

I’m so grateful to be back home that I can almost forget I might be about to leave it all behind, or that unicorns might exist, or that I’m possibly being pursued by a billionaire kidnapper.

I groggily make my way through the wallpapered hallways in search of caffeine, but I halt when I pass my mother’s room and hear her voice raised. She never loses her cool, unless she’s talking to my dad. But if he’s anywhere near a working phone line, he would have called me.

After my parents split, my dad had some kind of early midlife crisis and decided to backpack around the world. He spends a lot of time working on permaculture farms in the middle of nowhere with no phone service. Or at least that’s what I think he does. I’m pretty sure he’s currently in Central America. The last time I heard from him was in the fall, right before the Jewish New Year. The call had been about ten seconds long; I can remember the whole thing.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey, Sprout. Just calling to wish you a shana tova.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Awkward pause.

“I might be off the grid for longer than usual starting next week.”

“Okay.”

“But I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”

“That would be nice.”

“Bye, Sprout, I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad, and I miss—”

Click.

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