Chapter 32 - Sam

“Plastic. Hate plastic,” Jacob’s dad said, rubbing a thumb on his spork. “You can’t tell anything about it.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad,” Jacob said. “Eat your eggs. They’re good.” The boy smiled when Bruce scooped eggs into his mouth and chewed. “He’s a Forester. He hates artificial things.”

A Forester?

Sam nodded, thinking she had a pretty good idea about this caste. A much better one than she had about her own, anyway.

It’d only been about eight weeks since she’d last seen Jacob, but he seemed years older, as if in that short amount of time he’d seen and lived more than any child should. God only knows the speed at which a homeless child needs to grow. Sam’s heart felt like it could break in two.

Jacob attacked his fruit cocktail before the rest of the breakfast, setting a few scattered cherries aside. He gobbled it all up so fast, he barely seemed to enjoy it. When he finished, he scooped the four cherries he’d found, placed them carefully on the spork and ate them in one bite.

“Those are my favorite.” He licked his lips.

“Eat mine,” Bruce said, without even looking at his son.

“No, Dad. I had two servings. Thank you, though.” He patted his father’s arm.

Sam took a deep breath to steady her emotions. This boy had always inspired such tenderness in her, and seeing him like this had never been easy, but right now, it was proving harder than ever. He was thinner than before. His hair had no shine to it and his skin was sallow. But the thing that got to her the most was the heaviness in his gaze, a weight that didn’t belong there.

This damn life never seemed to have a problem serving up misery, even to those unprepared to deal with it.

Sam blinked at the ceiling and swallowed hard. Afraid to even try, she narrowed her eyes and dared peer at all the broken vinculums that floated above her. While helping at the food line, she’d been tempted to look, but she’d held back, afraid of the overwhelming sadness she’d so far managed to keep at bay this morning.

Now, however, Jacob was here, and her suspicions about him and his father were confirmed. They were Morphids, and maybe that feeling she’d had these past eight weeks, the feeling that she could help Jacob, was more than that. It was time to find out.

Dozens of ribbons of light floated above her. They all varied in length and intensity. She was immediately afraid of the paler vinculums. She knew what that sickly color meant. With all her heart, she wished she could gather them all and repair them but, without even knowing what she’d done to Elizabeth, how could she attempt to “help” anybody else?

She lowered her gaze and, pretending to be brave, directed it toward Bruce. An involuntary gasp escaped her. She slammed her eyes shut.

“What is it?” Jacob asked, his sweet eight-year-old face full of concern.

“Nothing,” Sam lied, opening her eyes and giving the boy her best smile.

Maybe she wouldn’t be able to help him after all. Bruce’s vinculum looked just like Elizabeth’s. There was no one on the other side. No one. Jacob’s mom was dead, and he didn’t know it. He’d talked about her several times, had told Sam they would find her one day and everything would be like it was meant to be, like when he was four, and his mom took him to school and the playground, and cooked the most delicious treats ever.

But there was no hope for that. Not now. Not ever again.

“You look like you’re about to cry,” Jacob said with a frown.

“I’m just happy to see you. That’s all,” Sam said.

“Then smile, silly. Don’t cry.” In spite of his scolding, the boy could tell something else was going on. He gave Sam a warm smile and a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Why did you guys come to New York?” Sam asked after a moment watching Jacob devour his sausage.

He shrugged. “Dad wanted to. Something got into him and so . . .” He looked up from his plate and locked eyes with her. “Well, you know how it is when that happens. You’re a Morphid, too.”

“Yeah, I do know.”

“I never imagined you were a Morphid. I mean, you never said anything.”

“You didn’t either.” Sam hadn’t known either, but she didn’t want to confuse him.

“Dad says I should never tell anyone,” Jacob said. “We don’t run into many of our kind. Well,” he looked around the room, “it’s different here.” “Your father is right. Humans would think you’re crazy.”

“They already think that anyway.” Jacob lowered his head, his nose only a few inches from his plate. His dirty blond hair spilled over his forehead. He had a handsome profile.

He’ll break plenty of hearts one day.

Or not. That had definitely been a human thought. Who knew what the boy would morph into. If into a Companion, he would never break any hearts. He would fall in love quicker than at-first-sight and would forever stay in love.

At least that was the idea. It hadn’t worked out quite that way for her. Far from it.

“It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks,” Sam said.

“That’s not true. That’s just something people say. It does matter.” Jacob’s jaw was twitching as he clenched his teeth on and off. “Dad can’t get a job. People move to the other side of the street when we walk by. They don’t look at us, and if they do, they look at us like they don’t even want to see us, like they’re grossed out.”

Sam felt her heart crack right down the middle. Jacob had never talked to her like that before. She’d had no idea he felt this way.

“I’m sorry, Jacob. You’re right. There are a lot of things people say that aren’t true. It’s easy to say them when you’ve never lived through anything difficult.”

He sniffed and shook his head. “I’m sorry I said that. You’re just trying to help.”

“Don’t apologize. You can always tell me anything that’s on your mind. We’re friends, right?” She nudged him back in a teasing way.

“Are we? Really?” Jacob stared up at her. The hopeful expression in his eyes cracked her heart into more than just two pieces.

“Of course! Hey, do you think you’re staying in New York?” Sam didn’t want him to disappear again.

“I guess. Unless something else gets into Dad.” He gave his father a sideways glance and seemed relieved to find him eating.

Sam wanted to say that she could help them, but she wasn’t sure if that was possible. Not until . . .

“What is it?” Jacob asked when she stood up abruptly.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t leave, please. Don’t go anywhere until I get back.”

Jacob’s eyes widened in surprise at her strong request. “Oh . . . okay.”

Suddenly, she had to see Elizabeth, find out what destroying what was left of her broken vinculum had done to her. Sam refused to believe it had accomplished nothing. Her instincts wouldn’t have driven her to excise her vinculum unless it was for the best.

Or would they?