Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,7
million dollars to say otherwise. And I’d gladly play with a son instead of an old man.
“Pull up the picture again, please.”
Cal shoots off the picture of Seth one more time. I lean across my dinner plate to examine it closely.
Seth’s eyes are dark, not like Cal’s at all. They are rimmed with black, almost like he’s wearing eyeliner. A scar cuts across the bottom corner of his chin. A pendant hangs across his neck, tied with a red cord.
I’ve seen that necklace before. It’s the same lion-faced snake medallion that Seth’s mother was wearing in her portrait. It’s the same animal on his website and on his face.
“What happened to your wife?” I ask point-blank.
Cal takes another long drink of wine. “She left us too soon,” he says. And then he tells me the whole sordid story.
Sophia McNeal is never coming back, that much is clear. But maybe Cal is right. Maybe his plan will work. Because I can be anyone Cal wants me to be, especially a daughter. Ms. Lydia made me practice that role extensively.
I can do other things too. I’ve been trained for every possibility. I can hurt, I can heal, I can hook, and I can release.
If Cal wants me to lure Seth back into his life, I can do that.
The only thing I can’t do is fall asleep on my own.
My cloister is quiet and darkened by shadows. I know the door is bolted shut, but it doesn’t help. There’s no murmur of breathing, no shuffling of feet.
Rolling on my side, I pull the covers up tightly around my shoulders. If I concentrate hard enough, maybe I can still picture it. The Tabula Rasa bunk beds. My old black sleep shirt. Ms. Corina wandering the aisles, giving instructions.
“Relax your forehead,” she’d say. “Then your cheeks, then your smile.” Ms. Corina’s voice was always sickly sweet. “Lie back and straighten your spine until you feel yourself lifted from above. You’re a little cloud floating in the sky above the whole world. And you’re placid. Perfectly placid.”
Fatima used to mock her for using the word “placid” so often. “Charming Corina is such an idiot,” she’d say. “Why can’t she say ‘calm’?”
But I’m trying not to think about Fatima or Ethan, Beau, and the rest. It’s too hard, thinking about my friends.
So maybe if I try hard enough, I can still do it. I can be calm, I can be placid, and I can fall asleep all by myself.
I’m still a Vestal even though I’m alone. I’ll always be a Vestal, no matter what happens.
I have everything I need to achieve happiness.
Chapter Three
Vestals don’t usually free people from jail. But if this is what Cal wants, I have to do it. He asked Headmaster Russell to send over the paperwork this morning, dropping all charges against Seth for the crime of trespassing on Tabula Rasa property with the intent to cause harm.
Thankfully the car Cal’s provided me with is pretty opaque. That’s good, because I’ve never been out in daylight before, except that one ride from Tabula Rasa to my new home at McNeal Manor.
I’ve been dreaming about sunshine forever. But usually, those dreams are nightmares.
Back at Tabula Rasa, they infused our water with vitamin D so we wouldn’t get rickets. It’s better that way. The outside world is dangerous for a Vestal. Somebody might see us and tell people where we are. Or worse, they might take our picture. Then we’d be overexposed like everyone else, unable to control our own profile because our privacy was gone.
Vestal purchasers pay good money for our digital purity. Cal has taken every precaution. This limo has dark windows, a lead-lined interior, and a vetted driver named Alan.
“As soon as you close the windows between us,” Alan tells me, “you are completely cloistered. Mr. McNeal made me guarantee your privacy. So tap on the window if you need something because I won’t be able to hear you.”
But I don’t close the window between us. Driving through Silicon Valley is overwhelming, and it’s nice to have the company.
All the newsboards offer support too. Each one we pass shows a Vestal I know. It’s only a matter of weeks before my friends are up there too. Beau leaning against a truck with his arms around Fatima; Ethan looking totally smart, like he actually knows how to make finger-chips.
A truck company, a fashion house, a chip manufacturer; the only surprise at our Harvest was me. I wish I could be like my friends