Counterfeit ✓

Chapter 29

AFTER TWO WEEKS, the nurse released her from the hospital and Mila sat in her treehouse again. She bit her lip as she paced through her small room, thinking about ways to let Oliver hate her. During her stay in the hospital, she had come up with several plans, but nothing made a difference.

Mila knew Oliver would forgive her for everything she did unless she murdered someone, and that was-of course-something she refused. As she plopped down in the chair, she tapped her foot on the floor.

First, Thomas had to hate her. Then she could plan something else to make everyone dislike her. Oliver couldn't keep her around if his people didn't want her in camp. Sighing, she combed her hand through her blonde hair. As of now, she hadn't had a single clue how to push Thomas away. She even hated the thought of it. He had always stood by her side.

She sucked on the inside of her cheek. While laying in her bed, Thomas had explained the attack from the wolves, and how they had found the chip. Thomas told he had high hopes for a way out because of the chip, perhaps the device solved her problem.

Grabbing her jacket from the coat rack, Mila rushed to the door and thundered down the stairs. Before she headed to HQ, she looked left and right to make sure no one followed her. After her check, she rushed to HQ and pushed open the door. Still peeking over her shoulder, she heaved a sigh once she noticed no one was around.

As she closed the door, she smiled. The map of the area was still on the table with the magnifying glass next to it. Heading to the table, she searched for the chip in the progress. Mila hoped Thomas hadn't kept it with him after the wolf attack.

Rushing through all the drawers and cabinets, Mila huffed when she didn't find the chip. It seemed as if it had vanished like a puff of smoke, but she didn't give up. Mila refused to believe Oliver and Thomas had hidden the chip elsewhere.

Stopping to take a breath, Mila put her hands to her sides and thought for a second. Thomas trusted her. She needed to trust him not to replace the chip. Once she composed herself, she opened the last cabinet drawer.

A small box stood inside. Mila picked it up, opened the box, and gasped when she perceived the device. Grinning, she set the chip on the table and grabbed the mallet to destroy her way out.

Her stomach turned. Right now, the chip was her only way out of this mess, and yet she wanted to destroy it. Mila squeezed her eyes shut, breathed in and out, and peeked again. She somehow had hoped the chip magically disappeared, but-of course-it didn't happen.

He'd hate her.

She wanted it.

She didn't want it.

Mila didn't know whether she preferred Thomas his hate or a lifetime in camp with the thought that she was the reason everyone had died. As of now, she just wanted to lie in her bed and stare at the ceiling while trying to catch sleep. Even that wasn't granted.

Pacing around, Mila rubbed the back of her neck. She tilted her head, hoping to come up with a conclusion. There wasn't a way back if she destroyed the chip now. She'd forever live with the shame of ruining the chances. But what if the chip didn't give opportunities? What if she just believed the device was her ticket out of hell? 

Mila pushed the chip away. She couldn't stand to look at it for a minute longer, her heart pounding in her chest at a rapid pace. Grabbing the mallet once more, she swung the hammer over her shoulder.

The wooden head hit the table, a large hole dragging the map a little downward. Frowning, Mila took the hammer. Before she hit it again, she dropped it to the floor and crouched. Covering her face with her hands, Mila sobbed.