It surely wouldn’t have been her choice if one had been given to her.
Lunar.
Cyborg.
Fugitive.
Outlaw.
Outcast.
Cinder buried her face in her arms and urged the swirling injustices away. She would not get carried away with self-loathing. She had too many other things to worry about.
In the next room, she could hear Thorne mentioning Michelle Benoit, pleading with the girl to tell him something, anything useful, but all he got back were blubbery apologies.
Cinder sighed, wishing there were some way she could convince the girl they meant her no harm, that they were in fact the good guys.
Her body tensed.
She could convince the girl of that. Quite easily.
Guilt flooded her veins a moment later, but it didn’t quite dispel the temptation. She scanned the horizon, still seeing no sign of civilization beyond the fields.
She folded her fingers together, debating.
“You do know Michelle Benoit, don’t you?” Thorne said, his tone taking on an edge of pleading. “I mean, you are in her house. This is her house, isn’t it?”
Cinder massaged her thumbs over her temples.
She was not like Queen Levana and her thaumaturges and all the other Lunars who abused this gift—brainwashed and cajoled and controlled others for their own selfish gains.
But if controlling someone were for the greater good … and only for a short time …
“Émilie, please stop crying. It’s just a simple question, really.”
“Fine,” Cinder muttered, pushing herself off the stairs. “It’s for her own good, after all.”
Taking in a breath to dispel the guilt, she stepped back into the living room.
The girl’s gaze whipped toward her, eyes puffed. She cowered away.
Cinder forced herself to relax and let the gentle tingle slip down her nerves, thinking kind, friendly, welcoming thoughts. “We’re your friends,” she said. “We’re here to help you.”
Émilie’s eyes brightened.
“Émilie, can you tell us where Michelle Benoit is?”
A last tear slipped unnoticed down Émilie’s cheek. “I don’t know where she is. She disappeared three weeks ago. The police never found anything.”
“Do you know anything about her disappearance?”
“It happened in the middle of the day, when Scarling was out doing her deliveries. She didn’t have a hover or a ship. She didn’t seem to take any belongings with her. Her ID chip had been removed and left behind, along with her portscreen.”
It took all of Cinder’s focus to maintain the aura of friendliness and trust when disappointment started to settle in.
“But I think Scarlet may have known something.”
Cinder perked up.