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Protecting Truth Page 21
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I slide the photo out and stare at it. In the photo stands Turner, dressed up and smiling with his arm slung over someone who was next to him—before the two were separated. I pick up the photo, holding it to my eyes and feel the ragged edge. The other half of the missing photo, I realize, was of Bishop.
My emotions hitch in my chest, and my heart tightens with convulsions. I cry, so hard my stomach feels as though it will turn inside out.
“Sera,” Bishop says. His hand rests lightly upon my shoulder. He’s followed me.
“He—he knew he was going to die to protect me.” I heave uncontrollably and turn to Bishop.
“What are you talking about?”
“Here.” I hold out the envelope and the half picture. “I received a letter in the mail before I ever came to Chicago. It was in an envelope just like this, and it had your photo in it. After Sam told me what you did to make sure you were the Protector chosen for our team, I assumed it was you who sent the photo—so you could secure your place. But now I see, it wasn’t you. It was Turner. He sent me your photo, wanting to secure your spot because he knew he’d risk his life to protect me.”
My tears fall, understanding Turner’s complete and utter selflessness. All of his actions from the beginning, no matter how annoying, were for me—all of them—for me.
Bishop gathers me into his arms and holds me tight.
He cries too, holding nothing back.
After a while, once our tears have slowed, I step away and hold the envelope. “He must have sent the envelope from Gibeon before we found your meeting place with Cece. The post office there can send mail to any time period.” I gasp a sob.
“Yes, I’m afraid it does.” He takes the envelope and photo and sets them on the desk, and then he grabs my hands.
“I’m so sorry for everything I did, Sera. I’m so, so sorry.” He leans in to level his eyes with mine.
“Stop. Just stop,” I say and look away. His timing couldn’t be worse.
“Please, if I don’t tell you now, you may never hear my side of the story.”
I shake my head, staring at the floor, wiping my nose with my sleeve. Let him say what he needs to say. Just get it over with. “Fine,” I relent.
“When I first went to the L train station, the day you arrived in Chicago, I only went to watch you from afar. I had to know who you were because I was so certain you would never choose me over Turner. Even now, I’m certain it would have never been me. I’ve seen the way you look at Turner through Sam’s mind. The way you two kis—” He stops and stiffens before he can finish the word. He looks at the floor, composing his thoughts.
As he does, the memory of the one all-consuming kiss I shared with Turner flashes in my mind. Sadly, I have nothing to respond. I don’t know whom I would have picked given the choice. Even now, I’m unsure.
“Then the Underground’s gang came after you, and I had to stop them. You were in danger, and I didn’t stop to consider the consequences. The instant I grabbed your arm to help you, it was done. You were mine, and I was yours. I loved you from the first moment I touched you, and I couldn’t stay away from you after that. So I watched you in the courtyard of the Normals’ Academy, talked to you, helped you figure out you were a Wanderer, and did many, many things I should not have. I’m so sorry for what I did to you and to Turner. I’ve been living with my guilt for so long, quietly making it up to you in every way I can by trying to be the perfect boyfriend. The truth is that I’m not perfect. In fact, being with you is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.
“Do you think you could ever forgive me, Sera?” Bishop pleads.
I seek his eyes. I’d been uncertain what my answer would be when I thought of this moment. But I instantly know the answer. “Yes.” I say it out loud, surprising myself. “We’ve both had our secrets. So I suppose there are things you must forgive me for, too.”
“Thank you. Thank you.” He moves forward for an embrace. “My Seraphina,” he whispers in my ear and leans in to kiss me.
“No!” I hold him away, acting the way I know I should, against what my body, my mind, and my heart tell me to do: to reach out and embrace him, and never let him go. There’s shock and instant hurt in his red-rimmed eyes.
“Why? I love you,” he says, reassuring me.
“But what we feel is still fabricated by our heritage.”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters to me.” I shove him away and stomp across the floor. “True, I love you. Even now, I still can’t deny it.” For what he’s done, I shouldn’t love him, and it makes me angry. “Somehow, it’s irrefutable, perfectly clear. But I’m so confused by everything that’s happened. I haven’t figured out what to do about it. The Society is lawless, controlling our hearts, our minds, our dreams, and our souls. Do you really want to live this way—with no choice?” I swivel to face him.
“No, but this is who we are. What can we do?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I think I know someone who can help me understand everything.”
“Who?”
I look down, clenching my hands into fists as I take a deep breath, considering. He won’t like what I have to say, and will be even more unhappy with my daring plans. With a huff, I let my breath out in a rush, and look Bishop squarely in the eye.
“Terease.”
•••
To Be Continued
•••
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Dedication
Thanks to my Dad, who bought me my first telescope, who woke me up in the middle of the night for meteor showers, who watched Star Trek and B.S.G. with me, and who opened my eyes and mind to science and fantasy.
Special thanks to:
Tabitha Preast, Jenn Sterling, Christa Howell, Nikki Shah, Amy Bettwy, and Deena Graves. Beta readers make everything better! Thank you!
Pam Berehulke, you’re still the bomb.
Copyright
www.wanderdusttrilogy.com
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© 2012 by Michelle Preast, Michelle Warren.
ISBN: 978-0-9846621-3-5
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Editing by Pam Berehulke
Contact Pam for editing services at:
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Cover and book design by Michelle Preast
No. 1 A Fight
No. 2 Turner
No. 3 A Challenge
No. 4 Love Letters
No. 5 The Launch
No. 6 London
No. 7 A Date
No. 8 Schlag
No. 9 Unexpected Return
No. 10 Aunt Mona
No. 11 The Talk
No. 12 Holograms
No. 13 Dinner with Ray
No. 14 Oath Packages
No. 15 Preview
No. 16 History and Mythology
No. 17 Defense Arts
No. 18 Closing In
No. 19 Selfish
No. 20 London Exhibition
No. 21 Unfragmentation
No. 22 Perpetua
No. 23 An Attack
No. 24 Aftermath
No. 25 Two Hearts
No. 26 The Truth
No. 27 Protectors
No. 28 Gala
No. 29 One Kiss
No. 30 An Arrangement
No. 31 Unravel
No. 32 Dreamdrive
No. 33 Motives
No. 34 Gibeon
No. 35 A Truce
No. 36 Hearts Lost
No. 37 A Sacrifice
Reviews
Dedication
Copyright