“This is not you. This rebellion. This disrespect. Who are you and what have you done with my real daughter?”
Lucy raised her eyebrow and didn’t say a word.
“Oh, I know what that look means little lady, but don’t you dare turn this around on me.”
“Do we have to be here for this?” Galen asked and he rolled his eyes.
“We’re bored,” Malcolm echoed.
“This is a family discussion,” Maxine snapped at them and the boys sulked.
The knock on the door made them all jump.
“No, no, no,” Maxine cried and she looked around wildly. “Scott?” she said his name with a tremor. “They wouldn’t take her away without letting us know. You told him we would handle it. Did you tell him we would handle it?”
There was another knock.
Scott closed his eyes and then pivoted. He opened the door a crack, took a note, said thank you, and shut it again. Unfolding the sealed paper, he looked up at the whole room and then his shoulders sank. He walked over to Lucy and handed her the paper and she took it, unfolded it, and looked at the message.
“Is this for real?” Lucy asked.
“It’s his seal,” Scott replied.
Maxine rushed over and put her hand out for the note. Lucy handed it over and crossed her arms.
“What does this mean?” her mother asked. “What could this possibly mean?”
After clearing his throat, Scott pursed his lips and inhaled. He looked at his family, all of their eyes turned on him. “It means what it says,” he turned back to Lucy. “Go get dressed.”
She obeyed and slunk away from the family room and into her shared room, slipping back on the sundress her mother set out for her the first time she went to the Sky Room. Using her fingers as a comb, she untangled her hair and then pulled it into a ponytail. By the time she walked back out, the rest of her family had scattered and only Maxine was waiting for her.
“Huck never meets with people,” she said, more like a reminder. “Good manners and protect yourself…”
“Mom. I’m fine,” Lucy replied.
Her mother sniffed. “Everything your father sacrificed so we could survive—”
“I get it, Mom,” she said. “You’re starting to sound like you’re only trying to convince yourself.” And Lucy walked right past her mother, out the door, and down the hall toward the elevator.
Huck and the Sky Room awaited her for an early breakfast.
When she stepped off the elevator, she noticed the difference right away. The buzz and hum of people congregating for a meal was notably absent. Instead she was greeted with silence. She took several tentative steps and her shoes clapped with loud urgency against the floor. The hair on her arms stood on end. There was nobody up here—the space felt vacant and hollow. Lucy contemplated her fate if she ignored Huck’s breakfast invitation and slunk back downstairs. Would she be allowed to refuse him? What would happen then?
No. Lucy had wanted this meeting to happen. She had requested it and she would not become a coward now when there was so much to lose.
With a deep breath, she forced herself to enter the room. And just like she predicted, the room had been cleared. All the tables were gone, sans one. The single table sat in the middle of the room, directly under the apex of the artificial ceiling. Fake sunlight tumbled downward and washed the room in an eerie glow.
Huck waited.
He waved as she entered and pushed his chair back to stand.
Steady, steady, Lucy thought to herself. On her approach, a single server appeared from the side and pulled out her chair for her. She slipped into place and then the waiter pushed her chair back in. To keep busy, she ran her hands over her dress, smoothing the fabric along her thighs. When she looked up, Huck was smiling at her.
“Lucy King. Thank you for being my guest of honor this morning at breakfast. I am delighted that you agreed to meet me,” he said and he waved for the server, who brought over two tall glasses of a sparkling drink mixture.
Lucy took a sip, the sweetness was overpowering, and she set it back down, swallowing quietly. “I had asked if I could see you,” Lucy replied. “I wasn’t expecting it to actually happen.”
Huck put down his own drink and looked straight at Lucy. “Many people request to see me. Some have questions. Some have solutions. Most have requests. Others just want to be close to the leadership. It makes them feel protected…or above the others…if they can feel like they have my attention.”
She didn’t know how to respond, and so she looked around the empty room nervously. It was just the two of them, alone, and Lucy felt all of her rehearsed arguments and appeals just beyond her mental reach.
“I fit in the request category,” she said after a long pause. She let her eyes fall to the table and she waited to be dismissed.
“Of course,” was Huck’s response. “First things first. Are you more of a bread girl or a protein girl?”
“Bread girl,” Lucy answered quickly.
Huck rang a silver bell beside his water glass and their server appeared. He then raised a single finger in the air and then man nodded, spun, and left. Lucy watched the exchange with puzzled scorn and he noticed. With a smile, Huck leaned forward, and lowered his voice.
“You’re thinking it’s too excessive. The service. I see it in your eyes. You must understand there are perks that come with being the leader. But I won’t lie…I’ve always been a man of means. Some of this…the Sky Room, my office…are luxuries for me.”
She didn’t know anything about Huck’s office or his living quarters, but she imagined he wasn’t roughing it. Maybe his shower didn’t have a timer.
“Hey,” Lucy replied, “It’s your world. We’re just living in it. Right?” She grimaced, aware of her tone, and when she saw Huck’s face—his apprehension, a flash of frustration—she backpedaled. “No, I mean…my mom always used to say we deserve little luxuries…” she trailed off and then sighed.
“Don’t be nervous, my dear.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry either,” Huck laughed. “If I didn’t want to entertain your requests and if I didn’t think I’d enjoy your company, then you’d still be in your apartment with your parents…and from what I hear, your little field trip last night didn’t go as planned.”
Lucy turned red. All her emotions related to last night bubbled to the surface. Huck treated the incident with such nonchalance, but Lucy knew that he had been the one to turn her in to her parents. She narrowed her eyes, hoping to shame him into confessing his role. But Huck didn’t seem concerned with keeping his role in her discovery a secret.
“Ah, I see,” Huck hummed. “You blame me. Well, of course.”
She didn’t reply.
“No, no. I accept your blame. You are right. I told your father. But for your own good, Lucy. Out of worry for you alone.”
Lucy started to protest, but Huck put up his hand to stop her.
“You think that’s hyperbole,” Huck continued. “But your father has been experimenting with Grant. Testing viruses on him. Infecting him…” He paused and waited for her to fully understand. She blinked twice and furrowed her brow. “He could have been highly contagious to you. Depending on what stage of the viral infection he was in.”
His words sunk in and Lucy thought of her attempted kiss.
Maybe she hadn’t been rejected after all. Maybe Grant had known that kissing her would have put her at risk. Her body slumped and Lucy felt even more ashamed for her behavior: assuming out of humiliation that her feelings for Grant would never be reciprocated.
“Why won’t you let me save him?” she asked. Now, more than ever, she needed to see Grant again. Beyond that was the need, the compulsion, to not let his life end at the hand of her father.