53

THE AUGUST OF THE CHATHAM RAVEN

Even knowing what I am about to do, it’s hard to ignore how beautiful he is. The structure of his shoulders. The square of his jaw. The shape of his lips.

Just like it’s hard to ignore the look in his eyes.

Guilty.

“I can explain.” He is out of breath from running. “I swear I can.”

He’s not close enough. Not yet. Just a few more feet.

“I’m tired of lies,” I tell him, waving the notebook at him. “I’m tired of words that aren’t true.”

“I didn’t lie,” he insists. “At least, not to you. Actually—I’ve lied to everyone but you.” He reaches for my arm, but I pull away.

“Don’t.”

“Please, Ana.” His eyes search mine. “Won’t you let me explain?”

“Extremely gullible. Easily controlled. Like a child.”

He reaches for me again, but this time I shove him up against the rails. My strength surprises him—I can see it in his eyes—but it surprises me more.

“What are you doing?” His voice wavers. “Ana, wait.”

I breathe hard, inching him closer to the edge. My whole life, I’ve been taught to be sweet. Calm. Obedient. I’ve been taught that I am weak. But now, seeing how easily I have him pinned, how easily I could throw him to his death, I realize that I am not weak. They only taught me to believe that I was.

I smile.

And I lean into him harder.

“I didn’t mean it,” he pleads. “I only said that stuff so the team would back off watching you. I did it to help you, Ana. I did it to help us.”

My eyes narrow. “What team? What are you talking about?”

“It’s what I told you. You’re adapting, becoming something else. Something so much more evolved than they planned. Eve. Nia. So many of the hybrids.” His voice is emotional in a way I cannot pinpoint. “It’s happening to you,” he says. “Can’t you see that? I can’t stand what they’re making me do.”

“So leave,” I say coldly. “Nobody’s forcing you to stay.”

“I don’t care about the job, Ana. I just care about you. You’re the one who should leave.”

“I am a Fantasist.” My voice trembles. “The Kingdom is my home. I belong here.”

Even as I say it, I know it’s a lie.

I don’t belong anywhere.

Does that make me a liar, too?

“They programmed you to control you,” he shoots back. “And when they find out they can’t control you anymore…”

“Then they’ll shut us down!” I scream. “And so what? Isn’t that what you want, Owen? You hate the Hybrid Program.”

“What?” Owen’s face looks pained, as if my words have cut him deeply. “I don’t hate it, not at all, I’m just trying to save—”

“I’m not one of your stupid butterflies,” I snap. “I don’t need you to save me.”

With that, I reveal the knife.

His eyes go wide.

I point the blade right at him.

“I would never lie to you,” Owen says. “Please, Ana. You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

For once, I’m going to do what I want to do.

Slowly, I step away from him—and throw his notebook into the incinerator, watch its leather case swivel into the burning darkness with a flapping hiss.

Then I turn to Owen, to finish what I started.