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But I can’t help but feel a deep, unwavering melancholy inside of me at the thought of growing up with a sibling.
Of not being alone all the time.
“I just wish things were different, is all,” I whisper.
“We all do. Just have to focus on the future.”
“I hope you know that my life wasn’t easy with them,” I start, but I’m once again cut off.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Jerry snaps, her eyes flashing to mine. “I understand they were horrible. Got it? I don’t want to hear it. You were loved. You were funded. You were educated. You were clothed and fed. That’s more than I ever got, understand?”
I nod, turning away once more. I get it, and she’s right to be mad.
I would be, too.
“I had no one. So much so that Veronica had me initiated into the project without even wiping my memory. No one was in my life before, no one would be in my life after. No one was going to come looking for the girl who was never loved to begin with,” she hisses, her knuckles turning white around the wheel.
I don’t have the heart to argue with her because I don’t know. I don’t know if she had anyone.
And although I had people, I’d never felt so alone.
* * *
“Grab the cat; you’re not bringing anything else,” Jerry tells me as she exits my room. Shiloh purrs happily in my arms, attempting to rub against my face.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that all of your clothes are ugly, and you need to look the part of Ronan’s wife. None of those are going to help you.”
I try not to be offended, but I am.
“I like those clothes,” I tell her, rearing back.
“Well, I don’t, and I’m the one controlling this mission. Someone will take you shopping today or tomorrow, and you’ll get some proper clothes. You’re not going to go around to dinners looking like a homeless rat.”
I look at what she’s wearing right now. From the two days I’ve known her, it’s basically the same. Combat boots, pants with endless pockets, and a tight-fitting shirt underneath a flannel.
“Says the wannabe Kim Possible,” I mutter as I grab Shiloh’s food.
“What was that?” she asks, her head snapping to me.
I shake my head, smiling at her. “Nothing!”
The second she looks away, I roll my eyes.
When Shiloh is in his carrier, and his things are placed in bags, we make our way downstairs, packing her car with everything.
I didn’t take much. My cat, some undergarments that Jerry disapproved of—why they’d matter beats me—and a few of my sketchbooks so that I would have something to do when I’m left in a room for hours at a time by myself other than snoop.
And finally, we’re on our way back to my new home. For now.
THIRTEEN
RONAN
The soundof the other three behind the kitchen playing pool distracts me as I look over Jerry’s paperwork from the last week. It’s her least favorite part of her job despite it being, well,mostof her job.
Jerry is here to oversee us. To make sure everything is running smoothly and to ensure that everyone is safe. Not every compound has someone like her, but since we’re at the epicenter of American politics, we get a lot of Fallen Angels coming and going. With that comes the responsibility of keeping track of every single visit, every mission, and every misstep.
