The Torturer's Daughter Page 5

  He was probably lying. The way her mom had been lying all Becca’s life, if the stuff in the note was true.

  “Look, if I got it wrong, I’m sorry. And if you are working for Internal… just leave me alone, okay? Heather’s not a dissident. If you thought she was, you should have arrested her along with her parents.” She started walking again.

  “Wait,” Jake called.

  Against her better judgment, she stopped.

  He jogged up to her. “Maybe we can start over.”

  She should have kept walking. She didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say. She didn’t want to try to figure out whether or not he was telling the truth.

  “Come out to dinner with me on Friday,” he said. “We can get to know each other. Maybe I can convince you I’m not a spy.” He gave her a tentative smile.

  Her refusal was on her lips—but then she thought about what refusing could mean. Maybe Jake was completely innocent, and all he wanted was a date. But if he really was a spy, she had done too much damage already.

  The best thing to do—the only thing to do—would be to go out with him, play nice, and make sure he knew she was a model citizen… while trying to figure out whether he was telling the truth.

  Although the idea made her stomach tighten, she nodded. “Okay.”

  The pulsing behind her eyes got worse as she tried to return Jake’s smile.

  Just one date. She could get through one date.

  She hoped.

  * * *

  Becca assumed her mom would be working late again. Instead, when she got home from the playground, her mom was sitting on the couch, idly flipping through channels. As the door closed behind Becca, she looked up and set the remote down on the coffee table.

  She smiled. “I got out of work early for once, so I thought I’d cook dinner for the two of us. I’m making my macaroni soup. It’s already on the stove.”

  Becca studied her mom and tried to imagine her feeding scripted confessions to dissidents, creating, confession by confession, a country-wide conspiracy that didn’t exist.

  Her mom frowned. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Becca mumbled. She forced herself to smile. “Tough day at school, that’s all.”

  Her mom eyed her more carefully. Becca imagined, for a second, that her mom could see everything in her mind. She squirmed.

  Abruptly, her mom stood up from the couch, betraying her exhaustion with only a slight wince. She started toward the kitchen. “Come help me with the soup.”

  Normally Becca would have welcomed the rare chance to talk to her mom the way she used to. Now all she wanted to do was get away from her and her probing eyes.

  But Becca had heard her mom use that tone before. She knew what it meant. She knew she didn’t have a choice.

  She followed her mom to the kitchen.

  Her mom gave the soup a few cursory stirs. Becca tried to find someplace to stand where she could see the pot but wouldn’t get hit with her mom’s elbow. Whoever had designed the kitchen in this apartment had obviously never cooked a meal in his life. Becca’s mom used to complain about the lack of space all the time, until she stopped having time to cook.

  Becca examined the soup to avoid her mom’s eyes. “It looks good,” she said, just to give herself something to say. “It should pretty much take care of itself until dinner, shouldn’t it? You don’t need me for anything.”

  Her mom turned away from the pot to face her. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

  Becca had known this was coming. Reluctantly, she raised her head. “It’s just… Heather’s parents. I know you had to do it. They were dissidents.” The note had proved it. Her mom hadn’t done anything wrong. But the thought of what had happened to them still hit Becca like a fist to the face, the way it always did these past few days when she let herself think about it too much. “But I knew them, and now suddenly they were dissidents all along, and they’re gone, and… and you were the one to kill them. And Heather will hate me if she ever finds out.” She hoped her mom was too tired to see that she wasn’t telling the whole truth.

  But her mom was already shaking her head. “I’ve seen you upset about that. This is different. What’s really bothering you?”

  Maybe she should go ahead and tell her mom what she had seen, ask her what it meant. Maybe her mom would have some explanation for it. But how could she ask something like that without looking like a dissident? Obviously her mom knew her better than that, but still. That wasn’t the kind of thing you just asked.

  Her mom sighed. “You never used to keep things from me. We used to talk every night, remember?” She swirled the spoon through the soup. “I miss that.”

  Becca missed it too. Heather had stopped talking to her parents about anything pretty much as soon as she turned twelve; Becca never had. Instead, their closeness had eroded little by little, not by their choice but by the steady growth of Processing 117.

  Without their conversations, Becca felt unanchored. She could always count on Heather to offer sympathy—unless Heather was caught up in some drama of her own—but her mom had a solution for everything.

  Becca took a deep breath. “Do you ever… try to get dissidents to admit to things they haven’t done? Like being part of a network of dissidents that doesn’t exist?”

  Her mom drew back sharply. “Where did you get an idea like that?”

  She shouldn’t have added that last part. She shouldn’t have gotten so specific.

  Too late to take it back now.

  “I can’t imagine you doing that,” Becca assured her. “I just… I heard something about…” She floundered, unsure how to explain her question.

  “What has Heather been filling your mind with?” her mom demanded. She slammed her hand down on the counter; Becca jumped. “This is why I didn’t want you spending time with her. I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened.”

  An image came to Becca, of her mom calling Enforcement and demanding Heather’s arrest. “It wasn’t Heather! Heather would never say something like that.” Now she definitely couldn’t tell her mom where she had found the information, or her mom would know Heather had been with her.

  Her mom didn’t look convinced.

  Had Becca condemned Heather with her question, after trying so hard to keep her safe? “I heard it from… Anna.” But she didn’t want to paint Anna as a dissident, either. “It’s not like she believes it. It’s just one of those things she heard. You know how she is.” She had told her mom lots of stories about Anna over the years, like how for one whole summer Anna had refused to go swimming because she had heard somewhere that three-quarters of all swimming pools were infested with parasites that could crawl into your brain and kill you. Better for her mom to think the question had come from gullible Anna than from possibly-dangerous Heather.

  Becca held her breath while her mom thought about what she had said. She had never been any good at lying to her mom.

  But apparently it was enough that she was telling the truth about Heather. Her mom relaxed a little. “I still think your friendship with Heather is a bad idea. But I’m glad to know she hasn’t said anything like that.” She met Becca’s eyes. “If she does, though, I assume you’ll do the right thing and report her.”

  “She won’t.” Becca hoped her mom wouldn’t press her for more of an answer than that, because she didn’t know whether she would be lying if she said she would turn Heather in.

  Speaking of answers… had her mom ever answered her?

  A cold prickle traveled up her arms.

  Her mom placed her hands on Becca’s shoulders. She stared into Becca’s eyes until Becca couldn’t look away. “What you heard was a dissident lie. It’s a common lie, but it is absolutely untrue. Our job is to find dissidents and keep them from endangering the rest of society. False confessions would be useless to us.”

  Becca couldn’t find any trace of insincerity in her mom’s eyes, or in her voice.


  She had no reason not to trust her.

  So why, underneath her relief, did she still hear the words of the note in her mind, and wonder whether her mom was as good at telling lies as she was at spotting them?

  * * *

  Heather looked terrible.

  She almost fell as she staggered off the school bus. She hadn’t done her makeup, and the dark circles under her eyes made her look like somebody had punched her. She hadn’t come to school yesterday, and judging by how she looked now, she probably should have stayed home today too.

  Becca, who had been waiting by the front doors, pushed her way through the tide of students to get to her. But as she approached Heather, someone shoved herself into Becca’s path, separating them. Laine.

  Heather started to walk away. Laine grabbed her arm. “What makes you so special, huh?” Her eyes were wild. “What deal did you make to get Internal to let you go?”

  Becca’s stomach twisted. After the scene in the cafeteria that first day, Laine hadn’t done anything more than shoot them nasty looks in the halls. Becca had hoped she was done with her and Heather. Apparently not.

  Eyes vacant, Heather tilted her head, like she couldn’t quite decipher Laine’s words. She didn’t try to break Laine’s grip.

  Becca stepped around Laine to stand beside Heather. “Let go of her.”

  Laine dropped Heather’s arm, but didn’t walk away. Her gaze flicked from Heather to Becca. “And you. You’re in on it too, aren’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be protecting her. Did you make some kind of deal too, or are they going to come for you next?”

  At least she wasn’t trying to recruit Becca to her side anymore. Simple hostility was easier to handle than barbed offers of help.

  Another wave of students flowed out of the next bus and around the three of them, many keeping a wary eye on Heather as they passed. Becca grabbed Heather’s hand—it was shaking—and tugged her toward the school doors. Laine followed.

  “Why didn’t you save your parents while you were at it?” Laine yelled over the roar of conversation that surrounded them. “Or did you not care if they died, as long as you could save yourself?”

  Why had Laine chosen today to come after them, after days of leaving them alone?

  Heather’s trembling was getting worse. She stopped moving just inside the doorway. “I’m not a dissident,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the crowd. “I’m not like them.”

  Laine’s eyes narrowed. “Before, you said your parents weren’t dissidents. Now you’re saying they’re dissidents but you aren’t. You can’t even keep your own lies straight.”

  Letting go of Heather’s hand, Becca turned to face Laine. “You’ve made your point,” she snapped. “Now leave us alone.”

  Laine continued as if she hadn’t heard. “Everyone is going to think I’m a dissident now. They’ll say that if my friends are dissidents I must be too. But you don’t care about that, do you? You don’t care about anyone but yourselves.”

  Becca tried to signal to Heather that they should go. Heather kept staring straight ahead, eyes glazed. “I’m not a dissident,” she repeated.

  “Whatever deal you made, it won’t last,” said Laine. “Internal won’t let a dissident go free for long. You’ll end up just like Anna.”

  Becca froze.

  “What do you mean, just like Anna?” Her tongue felt thick.

  “You didn’t hear? Anna was arrested this morning.” Laine’s words echoed through the rapidly-emptying hall. “I guess you aren’t as safe as you thought.” Her smile was like a snake, thin and dangerous. “Think about that while you wait for them to come for you.” She spun around and strode away, leaving Becca and Heather standing alone.

  Chapter Five

  Becca and Heather pushed their way out of the building that afternoon in silence. The only things Becca could think of to talk about were the things she didn’t want to think about. Laine. Her doubts about her mom. What she might have done to Anna.

  Heather trudged beside her, blank-faced. She looked worse now than she had this morning, if that were possible.

  As soon as they stepped into the sun, Heather stopped dead. It took Becca a couple of seconds to realize why.

  Laine was waiting for them.

  She met Becca’s eyes and took a slow, deliberate step forward. “We’re surrounded by dissidents in this school,” she spat as she approached. She raised her voice loud enough for everyone around them to hear. “If no one else is going to do something about it, I will.”

  A few students on the way out of the building paused and glanced their way. Laine looked around at them before continuing. “I don’t know what you did to make sure Internal left you alone,” she said, her voice getting even louder as she spoke, “but we know what you are, even if they don’t.”

  A few more people stopped to listen. Laine’s face lost some of its tension with every new addition to the crowd. She was putting on a show. Trying to prove she wasn’t a dissident like Heather. Like Anna.

  Anna. What was happening to her right now? What had Becca done?

  No. She couldn’t think about that. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

  “As a Monitor, it’s my job to help keep this school free of dissident influences.” Laine took a step closer to Heather. “I take that responsibility seriously.”

  How far was Laine willing to go with this? Becca didn’t want to find out. She stepped between Laine and Heather.

  “Get out of the way,” Laine said. “Unless you’re going to defend this dissident.” She sounded like a stranger. Had Becca ever really been friends with this person?

  Becca didn’t move. “She’s not a dissident. If she were, she would have been arrested. Do you think you know better than Internal?” Her mouth was dry.

  Laine shoved Becca aside. Becca stumbled into one of the boys who had stopped to watch; he pushed her away as if she were contagious. She fell to the pavement, and only just managed to catch herself with her hands.

  She got to her feet, heart pounding. Her hands burned.

  Laine took another step toward Heather. Heather backed up until she hit the still-growing crowd. Nobody moved to let her through. Instead they squeezed closer together, trapping her inside Laine’s circle.

  Trapping both of them.

  Laine walked by Becca as if she weren’t there. She moved closer and closer to Heather until their feet almost touched. “Are you going to confess? Go ahead. Tell us you’re a dissident just like your parents.”

  Heather cringed away from Laine. “I—I’m not…”

  Laine grabbed Heather’s shoulders. Her fingernails dug into Heather’s shirt. She spun Heather around to face her audience, and addressed the crowd. “You all know what she is. What do you think we should do with her?”

  Becca couldn’t just stand here and watch this. No matter what Laine and the others might do to her. On shaky legs, she started toward Heather.

  Before she had taken more than two steps, someone pushed through the crowd until he was inside the circle. Someone with dark hair that fell into his face.

  Jake pulled Laine away from Heather. “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled in a voice that made the hair on the back of Becca’s neck stand on end. His gaze drilled into Laine’s.

  Laine took a step back. She straightened, visibly regaining her composure. “Protecting our school.”

  Jake closed the distance between them again. “You’re protecting yourself.” His face was just inches from hers. The words overflowed with barely-restrained rage. “Are you afraid everyone will start wondering about you if you don’t show them how loyal you are?” His pitch changed abruptly, from a near-shout to a hiss. “Is there something you’re trying to hide?”

  Laine backed up until there was nowhere else to go. Just like Heather had a moment ago. The circle didn’t open up for her either.

  “Heather is not a dissident.” Jake’s voice was low, but it carried easily. “If Internal thought she was guilty, they would h
ave arrested her along with her parents. They didn’t. And Internal doesn’t appreciate people questioning their decisions. Unless you want to be reported for making false accusations, don’t come near her again.” His gaze traveled from person to person. “Any of you.”

  A few of the watchers looked like they might challenge him. But the threat of Internal was greater than any physical threat he could have made. Slowly, the crowd dispersed. Laine shot Heather a glare of contempt before scurrying away.

  If Jake was spying for Internal, why would he have saved Heather from Laine?

  Jake met Becca’s eyes. His smile snapped on like he had flipped a switch.

  Right. To make Becca less suspicious. She wished it didn’t make sense, but it did.

  Unless she was just being paranoid because she didn’t know how to deal with the idea that a guy might actually like her.

  Anyway, whatever his motives, he had saved Heather.

  She smiled back. “Thank you.” What else could she say? She didn’t want to think about what could have happened to Heather—to both of them—if he hadn’t intervened.

  But when she remembered that growl in his voice, her skin prickled.

  * * *

  Heather came home with Becca; she said she didn’t want to be alone. On the bus, she stared out the window while Becca stayed alert for anyone who might follow Laine’s lead. She heard their names whispered a few times, but nobody came near them.

  Still, Becca breathed a little easier as soon as they got off the bus and away from all those eyes.

  “Thanks for what you did back there,” Heather said in an anemic voice as they entered the building.

  “I didn’t do as much as I should have. You should be thanking Jake, not me.” They walked up the stairs side by side. They used to walk inside together like this every day after school, and do homework at Heather’s apartment or Becca’s. Only two weeks had gone by since Heather’s parents’ arrest, but the old routines already felt unfamiliar.