The Sky is Everywhere

Chapter Thirty-Seven

My head aches.

I crack open an eye, then shut it again, because the lights are so bright, stabbing into my brain.

What happened?

Memories come back in pieces, and it takes me a few minutes to fit them back together.

Fletcher . . .

Ripley . . .

The Trials.

I sit bolt upright, gasping.

I'm lying on the floor of a small white room, little more than a cube, with a single door set into one wall, and a series of stark lights running along the ceiling.

I've never been here, but I know what this room is.

Isolation.

Pushing myself to my feet, I move unsteadily to the door. My head is pounding, but I'm only dimly aware of that.

The door is locked.

There are two cameras at either end of the room, and red lights blink on both of them.

Tears threaten, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

I can't fall apart now.

But what else am I supposed to do?

The cameras are back on, the doors are all locked, and all Rosie's bugs are under the desk in Records. Assuming that no one has found them by now.

I'm trapped in Isolation.

I'd realised back in Records that I have failed, but the true enormity of this sends me to my knees, my palms sliding down the metal door.

Everyone was depending on me, and I've let them down.

Sonny, Taffy, and Priya – they'll all go into the Trials in a few days, and they'll be going there to die. And none of them have any idea.

The electronic lock on the door clicks open and I scramble back on all fours, terrified that it's Fletcher coming in, that's he's going to corner me in another small room.

It's Ripley.

She closes the door behind her, folds her arms across her chest, and regards me with a cool, assessing stare.

I want to stare back at her, to let her know that I'm not afraid, but I'm so tired. I'm not sure I have any fight left. My gaze falls to the floor.

"How much do you really know?" she asks.

"I know everything," I mutter.

"Because Fletcher told you."

"That's right."

She gives a little nod. "I apologise for him. His behaviour is completely inappropriate, and I assure you that he will be dealt with."

A bitter laugh rips out of my throat. "Let me see if I understand this. You can see the problem with a grown man taking advantage of a teenage girl, but you can't see the problem in forcing that same teenage girl to kill her friends?"

People on the outside might have been conditioned to hate Seconds, but they have nothing on the Handlers.

"You shouldn't even be here. Seconds aren't legal," Ripley says.

"That's not our fault. It doesn't give you the right to treat us like this."

"Legally, it does."

I cover my eyes with my hands, the anger draining out of me again. There's no arguing with her. She runs the CC so she either truly believes in this place, or she's being paid enough to not care about what happens here.