The Darkest Legacy (Darkest Min - Alexandra Bracken Page 0,93

the car. “It gets easier.”

I briskly rubbed the towel over the steering wheel and dash, then turned my attention to the prints on the doors and trunk. “What does?”

“Doing what feels like the wrong thing for the right reasons.” Priyanka stared off toward the checkpoint’s distant lights. “Eventually you realize the only way to live is by the rules you set for yourself.”

“These are extenuating circumstances. Life can’t always work that way,” I said. “People have to be held accountable. There has to be some kind of system. We take care of it, and it takes care of us.”

“Maybe,” she said, without any bite in her voice. “I really don’t know. Lately accountability feels like obediently putting a collar around our own necks and trusting people who hate us not to tighten it. If a system is broken, how do you fix it when you’re trapped inside of it?”

“Isn’t it better to try to fix something with potential than to smash it into a thousand pieces and hope whatever comes next is better?” I asked. “I’d rather work within a flawed system to carve out my place than shut myself out by not participating at all.”

Roman came to stand beside me, glancing between us with a look of faint worry. It was less an argument than a discussion, though. Priyanka confirmed as much when she draped an arm over my shoulder.

“What do you think?” I asked him, genuinely curious. As always, he considered his words before saying them.

“Breaking a bad cycle can sometimes break a system,” Roman said. “But breaking a system will always break the cycle. It’s only a difference in the degree of certainty.”

“On that poetic note,” Priyanka said, taking the can of gasoline from him. “I think we should head out before someone starts patrolling the highway.”

We followed Roman’s near-silent steps off the paved road into the wooded area that lined the right side of the highway. I’d expected him to take us just out of view of the central checkpoint buildings, but we continued walking through the trees long enough for blisters to form and then open on my feet.

At one point, I realized my eyes had adjusted to what had initially felt like a pitch-black night. The outlines of trees and Roman’s tall form sharpened in relief, until I could see the veins of their leaves and the folds in his T-shirt as it clung to his strong frame.

“Wanna see Roman’s magic trick?” Priyanka whispered, clearly bored.

I raised my brows.

“Hey, Ro, what time is it?” she asked, keeping her voice casual.

“No. I don’t like this game,” he told her.

“It’s not a game,” she swore solemnly. “I just want to know. For reasons.”

Roman gave her a suspicious look over his shoulder, his hands gripping the backpack’s straps. “Reasons.”

“Really, really important reasons.”

He gave her one last glance before turning his gaze up toward the sky. “One thirty-five.”

As soon as he had his back turned, Priyanka held up the flip phone, showing me the time on the screen with a gleeful look on her face. 1:36 a.m.

I snorted, which made Roman look back again.

“Swallowed…a bug,” I told him. “Haven’t we gone far enough? Are you looking for a particular section of the fencing?”

He hitched the backpack of supplies higher, then unhooked the bolt cutters from where he’d slid them through one of the straps. “No. Just hoping for a section with no fencing.”

“Why?” I asked. “We have bolt cutters.”

“Because,” he said quietly, “it’s a felony to tamper with government property and pass through zones without permission.”

Oh.

Priyanka suddenly found the phone very interesting.

I crossed my arms over my chest, cupping my elbows as I tried to think of what to say. Of course he’d registered how uncomfortable that would make me. Roman missed very little, if anything. I’d been in front of cameras and audiences for so long, I’d come to think of that as being known. But this was being seen.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” I said lightly. “What’s trespassing to someone accused of murder, treason, and terrorism, right? Here, let me do it.” I gestured to the bolt cutters.

I meant what I said into the drone’s camera. Right now, with my friends missing and scattered, with my reputation shredded, I didn’t have much to lose. I could still go back to the government, I could still make things right—but that was eventually, and this was now. I just had to do whatever it took to keep going.

“I could do it,” he said. “I don’t have the control