I open cabinets until I find a saucepan, fill it with water, and then place it on the stove while Aerin shuffles around in another cabinet full of canned goods.
“You haven’t told me why you came here,” I say.
“I think the explanation will be easier when you see the other side,” Aerin replies.
“Before you came here, you hadn’t seen the other side. There has to be something you can tell me.”
She places a can on the counter and looks over at me.
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” she says softly. “You’re LaGrange’s son. For all I know, you’re a spy.”
“I’m a spy? For my father?” I laugh. “If you know who I am, then you have to have some idea of what he did to me.”
“Not really,” she says. “I know you got into some trouble with some of your public speeches, but then you dropped off the map, and he said you were dead.”
“What did he do?” I ask. “Hold a press conference and tell everyone I’d met with some horrible accident?”
“Basically,” she says. “He said your work with the Naughts exposed you to a virus, and you died in the hospital due to complications.”
Another brief memory flashes inside my mind.
“What is that?” I asked as another needle was inserted into my arm. “I’m not due for meds!”
“Doctor’s orders.” The nurse gave me a tight-lipped smile. “You just need to relax.”
“No…” My brain started to go fuzzy and my limbs felt heavy. “Already had seda…sedative. Can’t…”
“Just close your eyes,” she said. “You’ll be asleep in no time.”
Even then, I knew that they were doing it on purpose. Through my drugged, clouded mind, I knew they were giving me too much.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I mutter.
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“Obviously, that didn’t happen,” Aerin says. “So, where did you go?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “What matters is that I ended up in Plastictown. If you’re worried about me being a spy, that should pretty much alleviate your concern.”
She stares at me for a long moment, studying my face. I look right back at her, unwavering. If this is the direction she wants to go, I’m prepared for it.
“You once stood at the end of Capital Street and told everyone that the government was systematically trying to wipe out Naughts,” she says. “Do you still believe that?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I do. I had plenty of evidence, too.”
“Evidence is important,” she says with a nod.
“Apparently, it’s important enough to have me declared dead.” My throat tightens and I clench my teeth. I don’t know why this is upsetting me now. It’s been years since I last saw my father—and I thought these feelings were gone.
Does he think I am dead, or was it all just to cover up what he’d done? Did he tell people I was dead while I was still incarcerated or not until after I’d escaped?
“You hate him, don’t you?” she asks quietly.
I just shake my head, unwilling to look at her. I’m too tense, and the pressure behind my eyes is threatening to give way. I don’t want her to see me like this, and I’m afraid that if I look at her, I won’t be able to control myself.
“My mother sent me here,” she finally says.
I swallow hard and take a deep breath before I let her words sink in.