The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity Page 14

  “I know, I know. But there’s a lot you don’t understand,” she defended.

  “So why did you come? You didn’t have to travel all the way down here just to tell us you’re disqualified,” I said bluntly. Andrea shook her head in frustration.

  “I get that you’re still upset. But please let me take all this in first. I don’t have a lot of time with her,” she begged. My eyelids fluttered in a familiar disappointment.

  “Fine,” I snapped, treading back out of the bedroom, avoiding the anger on the tip of my tongue.

  The silence lingered as we entered the kitchen, too busy noticing the uncertain energy in the room, I assumed. Andrea studied my mom’s face. Afterward, my mom glanced at me, as if she was trying to distract herself from the obvious conclusion I was still upset.

  “I prepared a stew with the vegetables in the garden. I hope that’s okay with you, Andrea,” my mother said, interrupting the hollow tension, on a desperate quest for reassurance.

  “That sounds great.” Andrea gave a faint smile.

  After sitting down to eat, the silence grew awkward as the three of us peered at one another between a series of sips, slurps, and chews.

  “So Aubrey, why don’t you tell Andrea and I what you’ve been doing at the hospital? You haven’t said much about it,” my mother asked in her usual soft voice, trying to get me to open up.

  “That’s because I don’t want to talk about it.” My focus beamed across the table in dread, recalling my incident with Charlie. She eyeballed me in suspicion, roughly swallowing a stream of water flowing from her glass to her throat. Andrea’s eyes darted back and forth, waiting anxiously before my mother spoke.

  “Did something happen?” she asked, setting her glass down and clearing her throat.

  “Mom, please…” I groaned. Andrea stared at me. They waited for me to speak as I gave them a returned glance. “I’d just rather not talk about it.”

  They glared at one another as I fought to control my sarcastic, infuriated expression, focusing on my plate, lifting my spoon to take another sip of watery broth.

  “Well, I’m glad you were lucky enough to be assigned to labor duties. I was afraid you wouldn’t have work here when you left,” Andrea said. I tensed up as she continued her quiet slurping. My mother glowered at me as I tried to forget her comments. “Have you sought any treatment for your PTSD yet?” Andrea asked in concern. I winced.

  “How? They denied me any access to care and medication.” I rolled an eye, my mother delivering me a pitied reaction that only sparked my difficult attitude. Overwhelmed by the swift rate of the conversation, I took a much needed drink of water to calm myself. But the focus on me became too much. “So are you going to tell us why you came here?” I blurted out, slamming my glass of water down hard on the table, directing my attention to Andrea. My mother gave me a scolding glimpse. “That is why she’s here, isn’t it?” I asked. They both paused.

  “You’re right. I’ll just—I’ll just get to the point.” Andrea blinked away the onset of tears. All at once, the shame and guilt on her face made her a victim to my bitterness, and in the seconds leading up to her confession, I wished I hadn’t been so harsh. “The reason I came down here today is because… well, it’s because I’m pregnant,” she said in a breathy, choked voice as the spoon she held up to her mouth trembled between her weak fingers. She glared at the table while her announcement absorbed into the air. My mother stopped chewing and swallowed. Then, everything in the room got quiet. I set my spoon down, clanking it hard against the bowl. She interrupted the toxic silence again with a shame-stricken, raised voice. “But I didn’t come here to be pitied. All I ask is that you forgive me for being so distant the past few years... because I may not see you again after this. They’re going to find out sooner or later. I just needed to say I’m sorry… and that I love you guys, no matter what happens.”

  My mother was stunned.

  Nauseated by my partially chewed vegetables, I covered my mouth with my napkin, spitting into it before ejecting myself from my chair. I was certain I’d throw up.

  “Aubrey…” my mother scolded. But it was too late to stop me. I had already made it halfway down the hall.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  With my head bolstered against the stony vanity cabinets, I floundered clumsily on the floor next to the toilet. After several moments and a few deep breaths to reassemble myself, I opened the door to the bathroom silently. As I peeked around the corner, whispers cut through the emptiness of the dining room. I crept toward the hallway, sliding myself against the wall, eavesdropping on the two of them.

  “I’m sorry I let things go between us for so long. We didn’t mean for this to happen. Marcus is ashamed… and I don’t know what I should do,” Andrea whispered.

  “It’s okay... we’ll figure this out. I won’t allow them to take my grandchild away from me,” my mother said, the nausea returning when I heard the words exit her mouth.

  “Look, mom… ever since you told me about dad, and what he did… I’ve been terrified to come back here. I’ve been paranoid of being found, especially after they took his compass from me. But mostly, I’ve been scared for you. And I still am,” she said.

  “I understand... I just—I wish I could have tracked him down, at least. Nowadays they’re making it impossible to get any information about anybody on the outside,” my mother said.

  “How has Aubrey been handling things back here? She seemed more curious of dad when she left. Is she okay?” Andrea asked.

  “I don’t know what to do to help her, Andrea. She doesn’t talk to me. And now she’s sneaking off. I overheard she’s in some trouble with the hospital, but she hasn’t confronted me about it. I was hoping by you being here it would help her open up,” my mother sighed with a worried face.

  “Have you told her yet?”

  “No...”

  “You need to tell her. Or else she’ll never know who she is.”

  I stopped, allowing the confusion to settle as I stood there, curious of what they were talking about. When I observed them finishing their conversation, I tiptoed back out into the dining area before they noticed me. My head throbbed as I struggled to make sense of it.

  “What are you not telling me?” I asked in hesitation. Andrea glared at my mother, and that’s when the nausea thrashed in the pit of my stomach. The room got silent again, the anticipation keeping me on edge as I took a seat.

  “Aubrey… it’s—”

  “We have to hide your sister,” my mother interrupted hastily, pushing the chair away from the table as she flung up from the table. I blinked, letting out a breath of disbelief. Our minds remained at a standstill, the entire room transforming from a quiet calm to a disturbing roar of anxiety.

  “What?” I asked in alarm.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you both… The previous owners built a secret cellar on this property. We’ll hide Andrea there during roll call and the inspections. But we must be careful,” my mother said.

  “Mom… you don’t have to do this. This isn’t your responsibility,” Andrea said.

  “Like hell it isn’t. You think I’m going to let them take anyone else away from me? I’ve tolerated enough of this nonsense,” she snapped, tossing her napkin onto her plate.

  “But how? How will she raise a child with what’s happening?” I asked, shooting up from the table in anger. My chair skidded across the floor in a ferocious shrill, causing everyone to flinch. Andrea’s expression crumbled as her eyes filled with tears.

  “The guards don’t know about the cellar. And they’re not going to find out, you hear me?” my mother asked, looking to Andrea, who seemed even more terrified by her reaction.

  “But what if things get worse? When she needs medication? What about food and water?” I asked, dizzy and breathless as I stared at the floor.

  “We’ll figure something out. She’s your sister. We need to help her!” she yelled, frustrated by my reaction.

  “And what about the b
aby? I’ve seen what they do to newborn infants at the hospital, mom. They kill them because they don’t have the resources left to support them. What will you do when that child doesn’t have enough to survive off of?” I yelled in an exploding huff.

  “Enough!” my mother snapped.

  “No. Why is it so easy for you to pretend like everything will be fine? It never will be.” In that moment I was ready to pass out, but instead of allowing me the escape, Andrea raised from her chair, her eyes a mixture of insult and outrage.

  “Aubrey, this was an accident. It just happened. But I couldn’t live according to some doomsday deadline like they wanted us too. And I certainly couldn’t pretend I was dead like you,” Andrea spit out her words, now standing there in tears. Her words were so precise, so soft, yet so fatal in their execution.

  “You think I chose this? To be locked in a cage for the rest of my life, not knowing what happened to my own father? Never experiencing what things could have been beyond these walls? Outside of their regulation?” I burst out. My mother’s heart broke as she covered her mouth, bursting into a drowned cry. Andrea scowled at me sharply from across the table, her eyes turned to icy daggers.

  “You pitied yourself for three years, Aubrey. And you’re in no better a position than either of us,” she fired back. My lips trembled as I stormed away from their tearful embrace unnoticed, my regret resurfacing again. But my regret soon transformed into a sorrowful storm—a misery for having to live life in this time, and an undying resentment for my mother’s secrets, my father’s death, and now, my sister’s fate.

  18 CONFESSIONS

  I spent the next two days ignoring my mother. Her concern for the future was overwhelming, just as it was after the accident. But this time, she surrendered the limited hope she had left.

  Since I was five years old, my mother slid down a descending spiral—a fall that granted the burden of my father’s loss to steal her pride, her faith, and her dignity. Now she was a ghost—a soulless reflection of the strong woman I used to admire as a child, trapped inside the bottoms of her despair. But she had a bigger mystery, something that weighed her down so heavily she couldn’t forgive herself. Kind of like me. But even with the shortage of comfort and reason, I’d find the shattered pieces of closure I sought—the puzzle that begged to be put back together.

  As the height of my awareness peaked, I turned into a ticking time bomb, bracing to detonate at any second. Charlie had become another casualty in my fog of destruction, along with Evan and everyone else I cared about. And that included my sister, who supported me through the heaviest months of my life. Even after returning here, there’d always be certain situations we’d never escape from, including the past. And perhaps that was all I needed to learn before I’d be able to move forward.

  A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, disturbing the silence of the late afternoon cemetery. Leaves swirled in the wind like miniature tornadoes, twirling back down where they too would shrivel away and crumble into the earth. And when my vision finally sailed to the far corner of headstones, I saw him. He was right where I predicted he’d be, sitting beside his father’s grave with his arms folded around his knees. Only this time, I hadn’t expected to see that familiar gaze—the look of failure and anguish. Nor did I ever want to witness it again, but now, I had no option but to confront the demons that still hid behind it.

  The crunching of mulch underneath my boots gave away my whereabouts. Evan whipped his head backward in surprise as I inched toward him, his face fixed upon recognizing me. I sat down beside him on the hollow ground, the two of us absorbing the silence. Once the rattle of my appearance wore off, he threw his attention forward again, aiming his red eyes at the fence.

  “I’m sorry about what happened with Jake,” I said, looking back down calmly. He cringed, waiting as I rubbed away a tear. A few moments went by as I beamed at Mark’s headstone. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’ll be fine, Aubs...” He squinted at the sun.

  “Jake was wrong about what he said about you,” I said.

  “Maybe not. Maybe I am a coward for trying to help people,” Evan sighed.

  “No you’re not.” He shook his head.

  “Everything I do, every time I breathe, heck, each time I blink I ask myself if what I’m doing is enough... but it never will be,” he said, the discouragement swirling in his eyes. “I guess I should have seen it coming. Jake lost a lot more than I did.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to him after I left?” I asked, glancing over at him. He was squinting in the sun again as he took a deep breath.

  “Four days after the wall went up, he woke up and found the military raiding his house. He was dragged out of his own home while they searched through it. They demanded he tell them what happened, accusing him of being a squatter or having a connection to the rebellion. Everything was taken from him. Every belonging. Every memory. Before that, it was just him, his mother and his younger brother living here. From the time he was born, they were all he had. But his mother believed the conspiracies and planned to run. After Jake tried to convince them not to go, they left him here with nothing. He’s struggled with it ever since, and now, he chooses to believe they were right,” he said.

  “What conspiracies?”

  “That the colonies were just a cover-up to keep people under control. That they don’t exist.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “That’s ridiculous…” I rolled an eye and blinked hard at the ground.

  “Is it?” he asked. I remained silent in confusion. “Jake’s mother didn’t think their family had a chance anyway. And she had good reason not to, because even before the collapse, they were barely making it by. Jake didn’t have the motivation to pull himself out of it. Since his family disappeared, I forced him to go down to City Hall. I went with him every day, Aubrey, hoping for an update, waiting for some sign from our military they had been found.”

  “So that’s why he ran off that night past the fence…” I said in wonder.

  “Yeah.” He shifted his sights toward me in a grimace. “But I can’t blame him. His family didn’t make it long. They were found dead in an abandoned homestead in the mountains after only two months. No one knows what happened to them. They wouldn’t tell us how they died,” he added. I closed my eyes, drifting my head down as I put a hand to my forehead. “He knew just as well as I did that any word from our military about their whereabouts would be bad news. But at least we’d know. It was—it was hard to witness his reaction after that. He didn’t handle it great, and it got between Aaron and I. Aaron doesn’t have patience for people like Jake anymore. Being a guard changed his outlook on things, and I don’t mean that in a good way,” he said. I opened my eyes, blinking into focus as I looked at him.

  “I’m sorry,” I said in a defeated whisper. He turned to face me.

  “Don’t be,” he said with a swallow. “I was a fool for dwelling on my father’s death for so long. But back then I had no idea this was only the beginning of the losses I’d experience. Jake had every right to say the things he said because I’m still lucky enough to have people left to lose.”

  He withdrew his focus, revealing the distinct scratch left behind by Jake’s defense. On the side of his face, it gave off a grim appearance now. I shook my head.

  “That doesn’t give him the right to say those things. Our past just becomes an excuse to pity ourselves. It’s easier to dwell there, especially now. But he needs to learn how to cope with this on his own without blaming everyone else. We all do,” I said.

  “But you wouldn’t have come back here if you could handle this on your own,” he said.

  “But it isn’t right for me to—”

  “You told me after you got here that you couldn’t do this without me. You needed me then, and you still need me now. When are you going to stop feeling so ashamed of that?” he asked, studying me as I swallowed in surrender.

  “I don’t think I ever will.
..” My eyes fell to the ground.

  “Well, no one deserves to be left to fend for themselves in a world like this, especially you.” I let out a breath. The softness returned to his gaze, and for the first time since I had been here, I sensed a new hope arise in him.

  “But I—I didn’t belong here. And I still don’t, Ev.” He continued to sit with me in silence. I looked over at him, aware of the sadness returning.

  “Then where do you belong? Nobody belongs anywhere anymore. Sometimes we just have to trust there’s a reason we’re alive, that there can be a good ending to this no matter where we are.” The breeze lifted his hair as the light from the sun submersed his face. And then, he stood up, seemingly impatient, reaching out his hand to pull me up. I was dizzy upon standing up beside him, and as I digested his words, flashbacks of Charlie’s death blazed through my head.

  “Evan, something horrible happened at the hospital,” I gasped my confession out. He appeared confused as I lost my balance from the sudden surge of disorientation. Reaching his arms out, I unraveled into them, his grip catching my fall. I drew in a long breath, realizing how weak I was. When he held me up, he stared into my eyes more seriously.

  “Hey. What’s going on with you? When’s the last time you had anything to eat?” he asked in alarm as I dodged his worried glances.

  “It doesn’t matter. I—I can’t—I can’t do this anymore,” I said, breathy and exhausted.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, wincing in guilt. It occurred to me I hadn’t told him about my incident at the hospital. I guess I assumed he’d found out by now. “Aubrey.” He shook me back to life. And in that second, I lost control again.

  “They killed a patient because of me, Ev...”

  “Who did?” he asked.

  “The guards. The doctors. They injected an innocent man because they ran out of medication. They blamed me for it. I—I tried to stop them, and they revoked my duties. It’s over for me. There’s no way I’ll qualify into a colony after what I did,” I said in breathy sobs. His eyes widened.