Tremble (23 page)

The word Countenance is scrawled across the first page in flowery Victorian script. We thumb through it quickly—nothing but names—thousands upon thousands of names.

“I’l take this home and go over it with my uncle.” He clutches at it with a death grip.

We stand, and I let him hold me with the book hard against my back. Our lives are going to change forever. We won’t have to hide anymore.

We won’t have to live with Fems or deal with Sectors—after that whole faction war thing finishes—if we survive.

I give Logan a long drawn out kiss goodbye. I try to memorize the way it feels to have his chest beating up against mine, the brush of his lips against my skin, my hair.

“I’m going to be pouring over something tonight, too.” I open the tiny secret compartment that houses a smal stack of books. I run my hand towards the back, and Chloe’s diary slides out. I brandish the smal blue book in the air a moment before circling my free hand around Logan’s waist.

His lips twist as he gently takes it from me.

“What?” I ask tilting into him until our foreheads bump.

“I’m not thril ed with idea of you reading it.” He backs up and examines it with a heavy look of sadness.

“You didn’t seem to mind me reading it when you gave it to me.”

“Changed my mind.” A soft impression of a smile plays on his lips.

“Is it because of you and Chloe? I already know al that.” I stop shy of tel ing him I was practical y there.

“No.” He gives it a subtle shake. “Gage.”

“Gage?” My head backs up a notch.

“He’s not a fan of you reading it either.”

“Real y?” I say, plucking the book back out of his hand.

“But you’re going to read it.” He gives a soulful sigh acknowledging this. His eyes twitch with a hint of a smile.

“Of course I’m going to read it. What’s the big deal?” I lean forward and bounce a soft kiss off his lips.

His eyes close briefly as he caresses the back of my neck with his hand. His amber eyes glow in this light—glitter as they dance around my face. “Because Skyla,” He gives a sad knowing smile and a tender kiss before opening the exit, and leaving the butterfly room.

My hand caresses the only page of the diary that opens wil ingly.

Chloe Jessica Bishop

I run my fingers over her name, the place she warmed with her own hand. The pages of the diary stil bound together with a thick milky film. I start chipping away at the glue in layers.

It’s time.

A smal yel ow piece of paper slips out from the first page I manage to peel back. It’s a note from Chloe.

Dear Skyla,

This changes everything.