The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,9
mission . . . a hero is exactly what I’ll be.
The thought sends a burst of adrenaline through my body, and I move with new purpose. I smile at the crowd of my neighbors, and I let myself soak in their roaring approval as the security guard steers the prime minister, Dr. Schroder, and me to the front of the packed room. Sergeant Rossi is still there, along with the prime minister’s wife and Elena, the three of them attempting to calm the feverish crowd. But there’s no restraining them now. A voice breaks into “L’Italiano,” our unofficial anthem, and soon everyone is joining in—singing at the top of their lungs, clapping and swaying to the rhythm.
I can’t stop grinning, even as a lump rises in my throat. This is the first time I’ve seen any of my fellow survivors emerge from the shadow of our grief, celebrating life the way we used to. Looking at the faces in front of me, it’s clear I wasn’t the only one who had lost hope, who was searching for something to cling to. Somehow, today I changed that for us all. Me.
Sergeant Rossi hands me the microphone.
“Thank you.” My voice comes out shaky, and I clear my throat. “Thank you for your love, your support. I won’t let you down. I’m going to represent our country, not just in front of the world . . . but in front of the cosmos.”
The room fills with whoops and whistles. Their voices drown me out, giving me a moment to say something to the one empty sliver of space I can find in the room—the place my parents and sister should be.
“This is for you.”
My transformation continues with an offer to spend my last weekend in Italy at Palazzo Senatorio, as the Vincentis’ guest of honor. I know the real reason for the invitation is so the prime minister’s guards can keep their watchful eyes on me until I take off for International Space Training Camp, but it’s a gift all the same. I can’t imagine returning to the pensione now—its emptiness would suck me back in, would make today’s news feel like it never happened. And so I jump at the chance to stay at the Palazzo, telling the prime minister I don’t even need to go home to pack. The only possession I’m taking is safe on my finger—the Danieli family signet ring.
Instead of the deflated mattress and moldy comforter back at home, I’m now lying in a plush double bed under a soft duvet, my stomach full for the first time in months. I’m just drifting off to sleep when I hear a knock at the door. I pull the covers up over my head with a groan. Maybe if I ignore them, whoever is knocking will get the hint? But then I hear a voice.
“Leo, it’s me, Elena. Can you let me in?”
Huh. That’s not who I was expecting.
I drag myself out of bed and throw on the ESA shirt Dr. Schroder left for me. Is Elena here to hit on me or something? It almost makes me laugh to think about, until I remember that she is fifteen now, only two years younger than me. Still, I don’t think I could ever go through with it. There’s too much history. But Elena seems to have something else on her mind when I open the door.
“Sorry if I woke you,” she says, shutting the door behind her. “I just . . . I needed to talk to you before I lost the nerve.”
“Why? What’s going on?” I take a seat at the foot of the bed, but she remains standing, her face creased with worry.
“It’s—it’s something I overheard my parents talking about in their room. I’ve spent the past hour going over it in my head, wondering whether or not I should tell you. My papà says that repeating state secrets is treason, and I don’t want to go against him, but if something happened to you and I hadn’t said anything . . .” Her voice trails off. Now she’s got me nervous.
“What is it, Elena? Please, just say it.”
“He . . . told my mom that there’s a deeper reason you were chosen for the draft. He said the director of ESA—Dr. Schroder’s boss—has been watching you for years.”
It takes me a minute to digest her words, and then I grin with relief. That doesn’t sound so bad. “Okay, so I was carefully vetted. Isn’t that a good