Genesis Girl (Blank Slate #1) - Jennifer Bardsley Page 0,76

parents were Barbelo Nemo and his assistant, Lydia.

My mother, Lydia, was one of the first Tabula Rasa students. When she turned eighteen, my father, Barbelo Nemo, purchased (“harvested”) her innocence. Fourteen years later, Lydia became pregnant, which is also when Barbelo began sterilizing Tabula Rasa students.

Rather than abort me, Lydia fled. As soon as I was born, she brought me to Headmaster Russell as a new student, so that she could resume her place with my father.

But as punishment for my mother’s perceived transgressions, Barbelo had already taken Lydia’s sister, Lilith, as an additional companion. For many years, Lilith continued to make commercial appearances. But seven years ago, she vanished. The circumstances of Lilith’s disappearance are only now being investigated.

To my former Vestal Brethren, I say this: I have chosen to free myself from all the lies that were holding me back. You can too. You have everything you need to achieve happiness.

Epilogue

My casts have been off for a few weeks now, and the doctors have finally given me the okay to ride my bike. So Seth and I are heading out to ride along the coast, all the way to the boardwalk. Cal thinks this is a horrible idea, and he’s been trying to talk me out of it all morning.

“Do you know what they call motorcycles?” he asks me at breakfast. “Organ donors! Why not let Alan take you guys for a drive —”

“Sorry,” I interrupt. “But I’ve been planning this day for a long time. You’re still going to meet us out for dinner tonight to get that hamburger though, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Cal throws his napkin on the table. “But I wish you would—”

“Stay safe,” I say, finishing for him. “I know. But I’ve got good instincts, remember? I can think for myself.”

“I realize that. But—”

“But what?”

Cal’s fighting back tears. I know it. He doesn’t have my training, so it’s a lot harder for him to stay composed. “I don’t want you to get hurt again,” he says huskily.

“I won’t.” I reach over to hug him. The tweed of his coat scratches my cheek.

“And I wish that I could keep you here safe, but I know that I can’t, and I know that—”

“You can’t keep me locked in my room forever?” I ask, smiling up at him.

“Yes,” Cal says. “Something like that.” His tanned face reflects warmth.

“I better get going. I need to grab my jacket.” I’m still wearing all white; it’s a hard habit to break. Fatima and I went shopping the other day, and she bought a bunch of maternity clothes in color, but I couldn’t join in. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and freak out that my cuff is gone. But then I call Seth, and he calms me down again.

“One more thing,” Cal says, right before I get up to go. “I’ve got a present for you.” He takes a little box out of the pocket of his jacket and hands it to me. It’s black velvet with a red bow.

“Nobody’s ever given me a present before.” My hand shakes as I reach for the gift.

“I’m sure this is the first of many.”

I take off the bow and open up the box. It’s my own chip-watch, entirely in white leather.

“It’s vintage,” Cal says. “But it still works.”

I slip the watch on my wrist, not knowing what to say. I was supposed to give Cal his watch back, not the other way around. But Cal’s watch never came back from Nevada.

“Cal,” I say. “About your chip-watch. I’m sorry, but—”

“It’s okay.” Cal smiles. “The most important thing to come home from that villa was you.”

“No,” I say, though I can’t help smiling a little bit. “It’s not only about your watch being lost. Cal, I invaded your privacy. I read all your messages.”

“And did you have a good reason?”

“They kept me going,” I say simply.

“Then you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“But your wife,” I say. “Sophia. I even saw her last message to you. ‘But, sweetheart, remember. Remember always—’”

“‘—that I love you. You are loved.’” Cal says, finishing Sophia’s words for me.

“It almost felt like —”

“Like what?”

“Like she was talking to me too.” I sound ridiculous.

Cal’s whole face smiles when I say this. “Maybe she was talking to you,” he says. “Maybe she was talking to all of us.”

“Save any coffee for me?” asks Seth, coming into the breakfast room. His jeans and T-shirt are a clean contrast to his canvas of inked skin. Seth kisses me on