Chapter 24

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Chapter Twenty-Four

Delaney

The guard's warning still echoed through my head as the door closed behind us. I immediately felt like I was going to pass out, but forced myself to step forward and focus on my surroundings.

The room we had entered seemed as if it should have been breathtaking. As I took in the wide oval shape and high ceilings, I couldn't help but feel like someone very important had once been there. Yet something about it felt irritatingly wrong.

"Lovely of you to join me."

I jumped at the sound of the voice, which came from the other end of the room, where several sets of windows let in minimal light. An intricately carved wooden desk stood in front of them, and behind it, a comically large chair sat with its back to us.

"Well?" the voice demanded, sounding impatient. Trai, Caleb, Abby, and I shared a bemused glance, then Caleb shrugged.

"It's a pleasure you meet you," he said to the back of the chair.

"That it is," the voice, who I could only assume was Miracle, agreed. She lapsed into a satisfied silence.

My stomach twisted, trepidation building within it. While Miracle didn't sound like she posed an imminent threat, the impropriety of the room was still bothering me.

"Well, sit down!" the voice commanded. A pale arm appeared the side of the chair, waving around in the universal "hurry up" gesture. Quickly, the four of us scurried over to the two white couches facing each other over a dark wooden coffee table in the center of the room. I collapsed into one of, pressing my shoes into the lilac oval carpet and wishing I could sink right though the floor. Trai dropped down beside me.

"Not there!" Miracle snapped in irritation. She whirled around the chair so it was facing us and stood up, arms crossed over her chest.

The image my mind had conjured of Miracle was a drastic contradiction was the woman before me. From the way the guards seemed to fear her, I'd expected a hideous witch. But instead, the woman had thick, wavy, golden brown hair cascading down her back that belonged in a shampoo commercial, and an hourglass figure that most girls—Lizzy, for example—would die for. And, most importantly, she was a Superior, though I guess I should have expected that.

Peering at us through the dark glasses balanced on her nose, Miracle sighed. "Here," she said patronizingly, pointing to four seats lined up in front of her desk. When none of us moved, she smirked a little bit. "Come on; I don't bite."

Hidden behind the light humor was an undertone of warning, and it spurred us off the couches and over to the simple wooden chairs. Somehow, I ended up directly in front of Miracle, between Caleb and Trai. Miracle flashed me a cunning little smile before smoothing the front of her blazer and sitting down. As seemed to be standard Capitol attire, she wore a pinstriped business suit, but with a matching pencil skirt rather than pants. It seemed impractical, but did a good job of showing off her long, flawless legs. Which, given the way the boys were gawking, was probably her goal.

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