I’ll make sure of it.”
“Next time ?” Elodie hopped up from the chair and paced between her bed and desk. “There can never be a next time, Aiden. I’m matched. To Rhett. I’m getting married in four months.”
Aiden’s head swiveled as his eyes followed her. “We don’t have to be matched or married to be together.”
Elodie stopped, her brow furrowed. “So what? I’m supposed to marry Rhett, but be with you behind his back? If you think that’s something I’ll agree to, you don’t know me very well.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It was a mistake. The whole thing was a mistake.”
Aiden stepped back like he’d been shot. “That’s not how it felt. You were there. You kissed me back.”
“I did not!” Her entire body sizzled.
Aiden threw up his hands. “Shit, Elodie. If we’re going down for this—and we will—with who I am, who my sister and mother are, it won’t be bad. Probation, career reassignment—” He took a deep breath. “We’re going to get in some sort of trouble. We are. Both of us. That’s happening, so don’t you want to be honest about us?”
Elodie gripped the back of her chair to keep her bones from rattling loose. “It was wrong, Aiden.”
“Then why did it feel the way it did? Like it was supposed to happen. Like it was meant to happen,” Aiden said. “Maybe everyone else is living life wrong and we’re the only people living it right.”
Elodie sagged against the windowsill. “Or maybe we’re just lying to ourselves.”
A swift series of knocks cracked their conversation.
Everything within Elodie stilled as her wide-eyed gaze locked onto Aiden’s.
Don’t say a word, she mouthed.
“Elodie!” her mother shouted from outside her door. “I just received a notification from that neighborhood watch I signed up for. Says there’s a prowler nearby. A young man. What kind of young man do you think would go prowling? And in this neighborhood!” The keypad on the inside of Elodie’s door flashed red as Gwen tried to open it. “El, honey, your door is locked.”
“Privacy, Mom! Jeez!” Elodie yelled through chattering teeth before she feverishly motioned for Aiden to move back toward the open window.
“El, sweetheart, let me in.” The door panel again flashed red. “I’m starting to worry.” Gwen’s tone belied more threat than concern.
“Everything’s fine! Just, uh, changing,” Elodie called.
Another flash of red. “There’s no reason to be modest. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you without your clothes on.”
Aiden had one leg out the window before he paused. “We can’t stop fighting for what’s right,” he whispered. “There are things you still don’t know about the Key. Things that, if they came out, would make everything different.” He covered her hands with his and pressed his lips against her fingertips. “Things that would make this different. The way we live now isn’t the way the world is supposed to work.”
Elodie snatched her hand back. “But this is the way the world is, so …” she trailed off. “What’s the point in trying?”
“Love, Elodie. Happiness, hope, freedom. Those all mean something to you. If they didn’t, we never would have found each other,” Aiden said, pulling himself into the tree.
“Elodie Grace! You open this door right this second!” Gwen shouted.
Elodie gripped the edge of the window. “You have to go.”
“Come to the warehouse tomorrow. I just—” He paused. “I want to tell you everything.”
Elodie tugged the window down. “I’ll think about it. Now, go.”
Aiden slipped into the falling dark. Elodie noiselessly slid the window shut and hastily arranged her line of rocks on the sill until they looked perfect.
Elodie sat on the sand-covered street, folding her legs up under her as she waited for Astrid at the base of her best friend’s favorite building—the building Astrid had thrown herself off countless times, her webbed bodysuit threading from her arms to her legs like a human parachute. Loose strands of hair blew in front of Elodie’s eyes and she pushed them back and squinted up at the glittering silver building. Its spire pierced the cloudless morning sky like the point of a needle through silk.
Astrid tested the limits with everything. Almost everything. When it came to the Key and its rules, there was no pushing for this rule-following Fujimoto. She was as rigid as the paved street beneath Elodie’s feet, the same street she’d watched Astrid splat against as she tested the limits of her custom-coded suit.
Elodie couldn’t help but wonder if sometimes Astrid hurled herself off the roof just for the