Counterfeit ✓

Chapter 51

AFTER THE BREAKDOWN, Mila uprighted and headed to HQ, where Oliver still locked himself up. As of now, she couldn't give him a chance to disappear from his people-he needed to show that he was still there for them.

Before Mila knocked on the door, Oliver opened it himself and frowned once he noticed her. Without saying a single word, he marched down the stairs. He reached into his jacket's pocket, took a folded paper, and hung the list on the tree. Oliver then stepped backward, running his hand through his tousled hair.

People passed him-they peeked, shifted from one foot to the other, and then walked to the other side. A knot formed inside Mila's stomach. She just needed one person; one person was enough to convince other people. After five minutes, Mila had enough of the scene. She stepped toward Oliver, tapped his shoulder, and waited for him to face her.

"Why are you even here?"

"We need to lean on each other. This isn't working."

Oliver clapped. "Nice observation. Did you figure it out yourself or did you need help from Stephen?"

"He isn't here." Mila rolled her eyes. "Your hate for Stephen won't help the camp."

Silence lingered between the two of them. Oliver just stared at his feet while Mila frowned-they couldn't ignore each other forever.

"Look," Mila said, "You're the leader. Convince them you have a point."

Oliver raised his eyebrow. "How? I tried."

"You tried little."

With a deep sigh, Oliver pulled the paper from the tree and headed back to the square's middle. He put his hands in his pockets; the folded paper vanishing with him. Mila joined some people who stood opposite Oliver. With a cough, he attempted to draw attention-as of now, people didn't seem invested in listening to his story once more.

Mila clapped-people stopped and stared at her. "We need to work together. We can't escape this camp if we don't move. This is our last shot," she paused, then, "I know you've listened to Oliver, but hear me out. Is there someone who noticed me dying when the wolves attacked?"

Her question was a big risk, but Mila didn't have a different choice. She lifted her chin as her gaze drifted through the crowd-as of now; she had to show that she was strong enough to lead. People looked around. Not a single person raised their hand to admit they saw her dying. Mila's lungs constricted. For a second, she squeezed her eyes shut and breathed out.

Leaves rustled in the wind. After ten minutes, there still wasn't a person who spoke up. Mila paced around, twirled a lock of hair around her finger, and stopped when something clicked in her brain. With a smile, she looked at the crowd again.

"We can show you now."

Mila pulled the gun from her waistband, aimed the weapon at herself, and placed a finger on the trigger. People jumped backward, their mouths wide open in fear. Oliver reached for the gun-he offered her a gaze full of concern.

"We don't know if you'll return, Mila. How many times did you die? What if there's a limit?"

"I believe in returning. We need to show the truth."

"Mila, please. I lost Thomas-"

"Thomas died?" a voice in the crowd asked. "Why won't he return? Your statement makes little sense."

"I don't know." Mila shrugged. "I wished he'd return. I'd even give my life for his."

A second person spoke, "I saw how the wolves attacked you. I believed luck stood on your side. Show me the wounds."