“What are you all talking about?” Stacia asks, trying to climb to her feet. Raffe hurries to help her up, but she pushes him away. “Why would Cia and Tomas want to punish you, Will? You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Yes.” His voice is quiet but firm. “I have.”
It is that calm acceptance of what he has done and the punishment he deserves that makes my finger ease on the trigger. If Will were angry or defiant or belligerent I would shoot. But I find myself remembering the boy I first met during The Testing. The one who heard me confess that I didn’t finish one of my tests. Instead of ridiculing me or rolling his eyes as so many of the other candidates would have done, he thanked me for being willing to admit the truth. I saw Will’s heart break when his brother didn’t make it through the first Testing phase. I watched as he killed the boy who was about to kill Tomas in the fourth test, and I know that it’s thanks to his insistence that I was freed from the locked metal box Damone wished me to die in during Induction.
Which is the real Will? The one who coldly killed or the one who helped me live? I don’t know.
Slowly, I lower my gun. Tomas frowns as I ask him to get me a bottle of water from the kitchen so we can tend to Stacia’s wound, but he does as I ask.
As Tomas leaves the room, Stacia shifts, winces, and says, “I don’t understand. How do you remember your Testing? No one else does.” Stacia looks at me. “Do you? Do both of you?” she adds as Tomas walks back through the doorway. Anger flashes from her eyes.
I choose my words with care. “During The Testing, I discovered a way to record some of what happened. I found the recording and started to remember.”
“What about Tomas?”
“The memory-erasure procedure never worked on me.” He sits down next to her and wets a cloth with water. “I’ve always remembered.”
Tomas starts to wash Stacia’s wound but she pulls away. Jerking her head toward Will, she asks, “What did he do?”
“I killed people during the fourth test,” Will says. “Then I tried to kill both of them.”
“Well, I guess that tells us you need to work on your aim.” Stacia winces again but jerks her arm away when Tomas tries to tend to it. “How about me?” she asks, glaring in my direction. “Did I do anything that would make you want to shoot me? Or aren’t I allowed to know what happened?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I only talked to you once during The Testing. You were with Vic and Tracelyn during the fourth test. You and Vic completed that test. Tracelyn never did.”
“Do you think I killed her?” Stacia asks. The resentment has faded from her eyes, leaving only pain behind. Pain from the wound or from the thought of committing the murder of someone she knew? It’s impossible to say.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully again.
“But you think I must have. Otherwise, why else would I be here, right?” Before I can reply, she turns to Tomas and asks for the wet cloth so she can clean her wound, saying that she is the most qualified owing to her field of study. Tomas hands her the cloth but stays nearby as she begins to dab the blood away.
The set of Stacia’s jaw tells me she is done asking questions for now, so I turn back to Will and ask, “When did your Testing memories return?”
Will shrugs and sits on the ground next to the wall. “Right after Dr. Barnes told us we’d been accepted to the University. When I looked around and didn’t see Gill in the room, I knew something was wrong.”
I remember that Will had to be restrained and was taken away by officials when he realized his brother wasn’t there. It took days before he returned.
While Will explains the flashes of memories he experienced, Stacia lets Tomas help finish cleaning up the bloody wound. I shift closer so I can see it. The hole made by the bullet isn’t large. Perhaps a half inch in diameter. Maybe less. But the swelling and red rim around the injury are concerning. As is the blood that continues to trickle out. Since this is the only puncture in Stacia’s arm, I have to conclude that the bullet is lodged inside.
Stacia comes to the same conclusion and decides to bandage up the arm instead of doing anything more to treat it. “I can’t dig the bullet out myself. And even if I could I’m sure it would do more harm than good. I wish I had broken into the residence pharmacy and taken some of the good pain meds. All I have are some anti-inflammatories.”
“I mixed some herbal remedies with water,” Tomas says, taking the bottle marked with a circle out of his bag. “It’ll take away the pain, but there’s a chance it will also put you to sleep.”
Stacia looks at the bottle and shakes her head. That simple movement makes her wince. In a strained voice she says, “I think I’m going to need a clear head for this. But if you don’t mind, I’ll hold on to it for later.”
When Tomas hands her the bottle, she opens it and smells the contents. After a moment, she asks him to pour some of the liquid on one of the bandages she brought with her. I pull the ointment from my bag and hand it to Stacia for her to use on the wound as well. The easing of tension in her shoulders tells me that the combination might be enough to help get her through what is to come.
Before we discuss that, there is still something I have to know. “Why did you tell Enzo about the pulse radio in my room?”
“If I give the wrong answer are you going to threaten to shoot me like you did with Will?” She gives me the same smile I remember from The Testing dining hall. “Is this my test, Cia?”