Counterfeit ✓

Chapter 42

MILA STILL DID not believe that Thomas had lost his life. Stephen had brutally taken him away as if he meant nothing. Just a side note. Tears rolled down her face. She stared blankly in front of her and pulled the hair tie out of her hair.

After Thomas' murder, she hadn't spoken to Oliver for several days. He avoided her. She didn't blame him, either. Her decision had pushed everything into overdrive. Without surrendering to the enemy, Thomas would probably still have been alive. Mila plopped down on the bed. She pulled her knees to her chest and bit her lip.

No one was concerned with organizing a worthy farewell. Mila couldn't even blame the other campers; Stephen's return contained big news and a reason to guard the camp even more than before.

With a deep breath, Mila got up. She tore a blank page out of the notebook and wrote For Thomas at the top. Thomas. Someone who always supported her. Believed in her. Trusted in her. Her last action had prevented him from walking around the camp.

Stephen's words also played in her head. After Thomas' murder, he stated he would not return. Like he knew what game was being played. Like he knew Oliver had lost even before he discovered the rules. With her left sleeve, Mila rubbed the tears away from her face. She didn't have a single tear left.

Mila pushed herself up with her palms, tied her hair-tousled and greasy-back together, and walked out. As of now, the camp was only concerned with security. Mila didn't believe it provided a good memory for Thomas. He deserved better. Everyone who lost their lives fighting for freedom did.

Without hesitation, Mila rushed to Oliver, who was at the side of the camp. His eyes run red. With a cough, she made it clear she was standing near. Or so she thought. Oliver ignored her. He kept talking like Mila wasn't around. Like she was air.

Mila crossed her arms. She no longer accepted his cool attitude. Not if they denied Thomas a worthy farewell with this kind of behavior. With her eyes rolling, she tapped his shoulder. An act he couldn't ignore. That's what she thought, anyway. Oliver stayed in the conversation. She was nonexistent.

"Oliver!" she almost screamed. "We need to talk about Thomas."

He turned around and looked at her with a dangerous gaze. "Don't you dare say his name."

"He deserves a funeral." Mila pushed her nails into her palms to maintain composure. "We can't leave him without giving a worthy farewell."

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "You're the reason-"

"I made a mistake, yes." She interrupted him. "That doesn't mean we can't give Thomas a dignified farewell. He-"

"Then organize it. Hope it's a nice service. It's the last honor you can give Thomas after your betrayal."

"I didn't-"

Oliver already ran away. He didn't even look once over his shoulder. She lost her courage. Oliver hated her. Every word, every action, and every feeling expressed it. With a deep sigh, she walked to the middle of the square. She decided to make a bonfire tonight. People could write their memories and then burn them. She walked to the headquarter, smiling.

A few minutes later, Elody entered the room. She sat on the chair in the room's corner without waiting for a welcome and tapped the table with her fingers. Mila did not look up. She refused to give Stephen's former accomplice a look, and certainly not when she was preparing for the funeral.

Elody had a different opinion about it. She stood up, pulled the paper out of Mila's hands, and pressed her lips together in a thin line. When Mila wanted to get back the paper with her ideas for the funeral, Elody took a step back.