Obscure

Chapter 19

Elias

At first, Elias's cell had always remained perfectly clean, the air sterile, the bed's hospital corners tucked ruthlessly tight. Elias had suspected someone came in and cleaned every day while he was in the interrogation room, because not so much as a whiff of his sweat had remained.

Now that they had left him here to rot, the room felt stale. The stink of sweat hung heavy in the air. The sheets were rumpled and sweat-stained. But the biggest change was inside Elias himself. Kirill had cracked him open and scooped out what was inside. The broken shell lying on the rock-hard mattress was the discarded leftovers.

The firmness of the bed didn't feel like a hardship anymore. It was the merciless stone of the grave. It offered him no false comfort, no undeserved luxury.

The sterile smell burned his nostrils with every inhale. He imagined it cleansing him, burning him away. Scouring him of his sins. After everything he had given Kirill—all the lives of the people who trusted in him, and the futures of so many others—his sins were all that remained.

The door clicked open. It wasn't mealtime yet. He closed his eyes, expecting Kirill. If he was lucky, the man was here to end his life, and put a stop to the charade that there was anything worth preserving left in him. He doubted he would be that lucky.

Most likely, Kirill had finally come back, and wanted to have another conversation about Max.

It was fortunate for both of them that Elias could no longer muster up the energy for anger.

"Elias Kitzner?"

The voice didn't belong to Kirill.

Elias had thought he would never hear that voice again.

He opened his eyes. Sammy was standing in front of the door, his stance and expression as impersonal as one of the guards. He looked at Elias like Elias was something to check off his to-do list.

If Elias had still had any doubts that his obscuring would hold, the blank look in Sammy's eyes assuaged them.

But then what was Sammy doing here?

Elias sat up. Every muscle resisted him. His body had gotten the message that he was done and discarded. He was ready to sink into the grave. He was ready to stop remembering.

But he forced his body into action one last time. He swung a leg over the side of the bed and sat. He didn't stand. That would have been asking too much.

Elias met his son's eyes silently. Anything he said could give away too much. Even Sammy's name. He might wonder how Elias knew it.

How did Sammy know his name?

The eye contact did nothing to change Sammy's expression. The obscuring was still intact. Because Elias had done good work, or because Sammy's memories of him were too distant. It didn't matter. The end result was the same. Elias had succeeded. Sammy still belonged to PERI.

All Elias had wanted for his son was for him to belong to himself. Maybe Sammy had been right. Maybe biology had written that possibility out of his destiny.

"I work for PERI," said Sammy.

Even for Elias to say he knew that already would raise questions. So he kept his silence.

"I normally don't do this kind of thing," said Sammy. His voice was half annoyance and half apology. Annoyance that someone had sent him to talk to Elias. Apology that Elias was dealing with someone who didn't know what he doing. His feelings were obvious to Elias. He might have been a stranger, but Elias could still read him like family.