Fear Her Wrath II: Crucible of Glass

Chapter 11

I skipped school on Monday to be at the opening day of Simon's trial.

I didn't tell anyone other than Ellie where I was going. Dad knew, of course. He'd be checking his phone all day even though he promised not to. But I didn't tell Anaya, or Ben. Even with him back as my friend again, I didn't feel comfortable talking to Ben Vang about Simon (or Psychosis). There was just something about the look on Ben's face whenever the topic came up. He probably believed Simon really hadn't known about Psychosis, but... I guess he didn't think that made him innocent.

Simon's trial would take place at the Erskine T. Rushton Courthouse in the Deco District—just a few blocks from the Dreyfuss Hotel, where Eugene Rothko's blood-powered immortality machine was concealed beneath the Imperium Club. I'm sure the irony was deliberate: the real monsters screwing over this city passing judgment on a symptom of their corruption just a short walk from its rotten heart. I took the subway from Joplin Heights and got off one stop before the midtown station. There would be reporters, and I didn't want to make it too easy for them. Plus, I liked walking, and I had a lot to think about.

"Yo, idiot."

Anaya Strawter caught me by the arm and nearly pulled me over with the strength of her grip. She had been lying in wait in a coffee shop along my route. Apparently I wasn't being that sneaky.

"Oww! What are your fingers made of, you freak?"

"You're getting flabby, Maggs. Whatever happened to those hundred pushups a day you used to do?"

"I still do them," I said, rubbing my bicep sullenly. "Guess they don't do as much as rolling around in that thing all day."

I tapped my shoe against the rims of her wheelchair. It had taken me half a year, but I was finally getting comfortable with Anaya's new life—even if I couldn't quite bring myself to call "that thing" what it really was out loud.

"Rude," said Anaya. "And speaking of rude, I saw you slip out halfway through My Fair Lady. Whatever happened to supporting your best friend and being a good person and all that jazz?"

Crap. Of course she would bring that up. A sudden feeling of panic rushed over me as I tried to think of some way out of this.

"I... have no idea what you're talking about."

For some reason, my ability to concoct a convincing lie completely evaporated under Anaya's accusatory gaze. It had been like that since middle school. I couldn't get anything past her.

"Third row from the back, second seat from the left," she said, charting out my exact location with her index finger. "You left 35 seconds into the Ascot Gavotte."

Well, that was annoyingly precise. She definitely had me. Why couldn't Anaya be irresponsibly permissive like everyone else in my life? Why did she have to hold me to, you know, actual standards?

Why did she have to keep being a good friend even when I wasn't?

"I had to do... stuff," I said lamely. "You know..."

I lowered my voice to a whisper.

"Vigilante stuff."

Actually, that had been the night of my bungled train heist, but that wasn't really the reason I left. Naturally enough, Anaya wasn't buying it. She always saw right through me.

"Some excuse," she said, pretending to be offended. "You know, if you were a real friend, you wouldn't have to be dragged into witnessing my dramatic debut. How many times are we gonna have to go through this, Maggs?"

Even though I knew Anaya Strawter too well to take her scolding me that seriously, I did feel guilty, which I'm sure was exactly what she was going for. My only way out now was telling the truth.