The Ark

43.5

"How—?" she choked out, barely able to form the word around the spontaneous sobs she burst into. Her knees buckled and I rushed forward to catch her before she collapsed.

"It's okay, I've got you." My voice cracked as I lowered her to sit on the end of the bed, creasing the crisp sheets. She was trembling all over.

Mum clutched at my arms, then my shoulders—and then my face. It was as though she was trying to work out if I was real or just a figment of her imagination. "They said you were dead," she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Emrys said—"

"Emrys?" My voice came out sharper than I intended it to. "You're still with him? Mum, he tried to kill me."

She looked aghast for a moment before pity eclipsed her expression and softened her features. "He tried to save you, honey." Her tone made it clear she thought I was confused.

"He didn't," I said, my throat tightening. "The Alliance saved—"

"The Alliance killed Alistair," she interrupted, still using that same tone of explanation. "Just as they've killed those representatives they took hostage."

"The representatives have been killed?" I drew back in surprise, then shook my head before I could get side-tracked. "The Alliance didn't kill Dad—I know they didn't." My voice pitched high, pleading her to listen. What made it so hard for her to see she'd been lied to?

What made it so hard to believe me?

The sound of a door closing echoed through the apartment, along with the scuff of footsteps—too conspicuous to be Delta.

My eyes flew to the half-open bedroom door and then back to Mum. "Is there someone here with you?" I asked, reaching for the gun in my waistband.

She wiped her tear-stained cheeks and blew out a breath. "Just one of Emrys's co-workers. He offered to stay and keep an eye on me while Emrys took Xanthe to her gala."

Her explanation was punctuated by a sharp knock at the door. I lurched toward the sound, drawing my pistol at the exact moment the door flung open. Mum let out a scream behind me as the barrel of my weapon thumped into a hard chest.

A chest—I suddenly realised—that I had thumped my own nose against on one or two occasions.

I looked up to find Zaphron's bright blue eyes wide with shock. His hands flew up, palms outward in surrender as his gaze flicked down to the gun pressed against his heart—and back up to me.

"Astrid?" he rasped, a brief look of surprise and confusion momentarily crossing his features—before settling into something softer. "You're okay," he breathed, "I'm so glad you're okay."

I stared at him, the gun going slack in my hand. "Y-you are?" My voice barely came out as a whisper. "Even after—" I stopped, flinching at a sudden stab of guilt. My unfinished sentence hung between us as I grappled for a change of subject. "Why are you here with my mum?" I asked finally. "Actually, why is Mum even here?"

"Emrys brought me, to cheer me up," Mum piped up from the bed. She was staring at the gun in my hands with alarm, her horrified expression prompting me to tuck the weapon back into my waistband. "Astrid honey, what's going on? Why have you got a gun?"

"I tried to tell you," I said, frustration coating my words.

Zaphron put a hand on my arm, and I wondered if it was an attempt to quell my frustration or to alert me to the mixture of fear and disappointment growing on Mum's face. She was looking at me like I was the dangerous Alliance associate the news feeds had painted me to be. The sight brought tears to my eyes.

"I should let Emrys know you're here," Mum said in a way that reminded me of a hostage reaching for a panic button.

"You can't," I blurted at the same moment Zaphron said 'No'.

She looked between us; her perfect eyebrows high on her forehead.

Zaphron cleared his throat. "I mean, it's really not the kind of news you can just drop into a chat. I don't think Emrys will believe it until he sees it."

She seemed to consider that for a moment, then conceded. "Your right, he'll think I've lost it. At least it won't be long until he's back."

"When's he due back?" I asked, my voice wobbling.

"Less than fifteen minutes, I think," Mum answered warily. "I had a message from him a little while ago saying that they were leaving."

Dread crept down my spine and prickled at my fingertips. Fifteen minutes was not going to be enough for Delta to finish her work. I looked to Zaphron and tried to push down my rising nausea.

Nothing about tonight was going to plan.

"Hey." He clasped my hand in his and squeezed. "Its fine, I can get you out of here in under five."

I shook my head at him and cast a surreptitious glance at the door. "Delta's here," I hissed. "We need time to finish— We just need more time."

Comprehension crossed his features, quickly replaced by surprise. "You found it?"

I gave a rueful smile. "Turns out I had it all along."

Before Zaphron could reply, he was interrupted by Mum again. This time she let out a squeaky breath. "He's back early," she said, her gaze focused on something in her MR. "Emrys is downstairs—and it sounds like he brought Xanthe."