Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,68
that we can help. They look to us for guidance. Don’t you want to help? They crave our wisdom.” Barbelo’s eyes bore through me. He thinks his words are having an effect.
And for a moment, just a moment, I remember what it was like to believe him. The strength of his persona is a drug I’ve been hooked on my whole life. But I’m fighting to stay clean. I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.
“I think Lydia is right about you, Blanca. You’re a good girl after all. You could make a great leader.”
“A leader, sir?” So this is it. He does want something from me.
Barbelo nods. “I need eyes and ears on the ground back at Tabula Rasa. Lydia won’t be able to do that anymore. Not now that she’s dealt with your purchaser.”
Dealt with my purchaser? Is Cal … dead? But I don’t let myself think. I don’t let myself feel. I fight to stay calm. It takes everything I have to nod and take another sip of tea.
“First we need to make sure your soul is truly cleansed. Don’t you agree?” He’s watching me, seeing how his threat affects me. Dangling my cloister in front of me like an axe.
“Yes, sir.” I say. Placid. I’m completely placid. I’ve been taught well.
“Would you like to be my right hand? Russell can be so obstinate sometimes. He needs to be reminded about who’s in charge.”
“Yes, Father. Of course, Father.” And I imagine what that would be like, to hold power over Headmaster Russell. I’d really be top pick then, like Lydia.
“Excellent.” Barbelo wipes his face with a cloth napkin. “I knew you’d see it my way. People always do because I’m always right.” Barbelo smiles. He thinks he’s won. He thinks I’ll be the new Lydia.
But I’m nothing at all like Lydia. Not anymore. I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.
I don’t see Lydia until several hours later when I’m scrubbing the tile floors of the east wing. She approaches on quiet footfalls and bends down right next to my bucket.
“Blanca, sweetie?” she whispers. “I’m so happy to see you.”
I put down my brush and let my eyes go dead. “Yes, Ms. Lydia. Of course, Ms. Lydia.”
“Blanca? He’s released you out now. It’s going to be okay. Do what he says. Okay? Just do what he says.” Lydia turns her head and checks behind her. Her hair is twisted in a roll. She looks tan in her white tank top, sophisticated and vulnerable at the same time. “I didn’t tell him about the watch,” she whispers. Then she kisses my cheek and whispers one more thing in my ear. “I told him I shot Cal. Barbelo thinks I left Cal for dead. But he’s not.”
“Lydia?” Barbelo calls.
I watch her as she walks away, and I wonder what trick they are playing on me now.
Murder isn’t the only way out. I could also escape through the front door if I had the keys. But I’m not sure where they are. Lydia has them, I know it. But I hardly ever see her except at dinner. So I’m biding my time.
I’m a survivor, I’ve got good instincts, and I can think for myself.
Barbelo likes to spend his days in the atrium garden or in his office answering mail. He gets a lot of mail. Every day Lydia brings him a new stack of letters from the mailbox outside of the compound.
A few days after I’m released from my cloister, I’m outside in the hallway washing the floor when I see Lydia come into Barbelo’s office with her delivery. I spy on them, through the crack in the doorway.
“You’re a good girl, Lydia,” Barbelo says when she drops the basket of mail on his desk. “I’m sorry you have to be cooped up with an old buzzard like me instead of delivering these in person.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be.” Lydia drapes her arms around his neck. She tries to kiss him on the cheek, but he shrugs her off. Lydia straightens and reaches for a brown envelope. “This one’s from the prime minister.” She inspects the postmark.
“I’ve been expecting it. I’ll need to contact Russell right away. Did the letter from the sheik arrive yet?”
“No, not yet.” Lydia drops the envelope.
“Damn. I’ll have to write that CEO and tell him it’ll be another million dollars to make that problem go away. Everything we need is in the Archives.”