Free The White Rose by Amy Ewing

behind my ear. “You look exhausted. Sleep. I’ll come back tomorrow, when everyone’s left.”
    “Tell me.”
    She bites her lip and nods.
    Lily is pregnant. Lily is dead.
    “No,” I gasp. “No, no, no—”
    “Shhhh,” she whispers. “It’s okay, Violet. It’s all right.”
    “No!” I shout, then lower my voice before I wake anyone up. “No, it is definitely not all right. Nothing is all right about this. You can’t . . . you can’t . . .”
    Lily takes both my hands in hers and holds them tight. “Listen to me. I want this. I’m happy.”
    “You’ll die,” I snap.
    “You don’t know that for certain. But . . .” She gesturestoward the ladder, to the house below. “I love it here. I love them. And they want this baby. And, contrary to what you and Raven might feel, I have always wanted to have a baby.”
    “It’s not your baby,” I say.
    Lily sighs. “No,” she says. “It’s not. But these people have become my family. You know . How it used to be for me. What my parents were like.” She squeezes my hand. “Weren’t you just telling me how important it is to be able to choose? How you chose to be with the companion, even when it was dangerous? How you helped Raven, at personal risk? Am I not allowed the same choice? Can I not have the same freedom you have? To choose what I want. Choice is freedom, Violet.”
    I shake my head. “You’re twisting it all up. You don’t get to choose to die .”
    But Lily smiles, as if we were back at Southgate getting ready for bed. “You should get some sleep. You’ve had a long day.”
    I want to keep fighting, but the food in my stomach is pulling my eyelids down against my will. I climb back up onto the couch and rest my head against the threadbare cushion. “You won’t tell anyone I’m here, right?”
    Lily kisses my temple, the way I kissed Annabelle’s before I left her for the last time. The loss of her, which has been overshadowed by the incinerator and the sewers and the marketplace, rears up, raw and aching. It tunnels through my chest and squeezes my lungs into my throat.
    “No,” Lily murmurs. “I won’t tell. It’s so nice to see you again.”
    The tears are close, brimming behind my lids. “Good night, Lily,” I croak.
    She picks up the tray and leaves, the soft thud of the door in the floor telling me I’m alone.
    I think I keep crying even after I fall asleep.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
    HarperCollins Publishers
    ..................................................................
Eight
    I SPEND A GOOD PORTION OF THE NEXT DAY TRYING NOT to pace back and forth across the attic.
    It’s hard to keep still. I can hear muffled voices, and at one point, the soft strains of a violin.
    So these people allow Lily to play music. That’s nice. But no matter how nice they are or how well they treat my friend, they have sentenced her to death.
    Sometime in the late afternoon, the voices stop. The house becomes silent. I get up and look out the half-moon window. I see a couple, a tall man in a long coat and a woman with a white hat walking away from 34 Baker Street. The rest of the street is quiet, except for a harried young man walking about six dogs. They yelp and bark,tangling their leashes together. I watch them until they disappear around a corner.
    I go back to the couch and fiddle with the arcana, making sure it’s still secure in my hair. I think back to our conversation last night. What did Lucien mean about a key? And who exactly is going to be showing me this power I’m supposed to have? I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. I’m sick of Lucien’s doublespeak, of knowing only fragments of what’s to come. I have trusted him. It’s time for him to trust me.
    The doorbell rings and I sit up. My heart pounds in my ears. I think I hear the door open, and Lily’s voice. Then nothing but silence. It seems to go on and on.
    The door to my attic opens and I freeze, gripping the couch cushions.
    “197?”