Free Revelation by Katie Klein Page B

Guardians," I finish, laughing, eyes watering, hysterical. "I know! You're a Guardian! You and Seth were inseparable! You knocked out your last charge! You—you pulled a chair out!" I remind him, frantic. "Don't you remember any of this?"
    "This isn't possible," he says, head shaking in disbelief. "You shouldn't even know . . ."
    "I do. I do know."
    His cheeks flush, flustered, features twisting with confusion. "I don't—I don't know you!"
    Prickles of anger stab my skin, rippling. And then I realize—he's telling the truth. He's not lying, making it up. He could never pretend not to know me. Or Seth. Especially Seth. But he knows the Guardians. "What did they do to you?" I ask, voice barely a whisper.
    His eyes tear from mine, glancing around us, even while knowing what we both fear can't be seen in the material world. "I have to go."
    "The Council. What did they do? What did they say to you?"
    But he's already backing away from me, distancing himself, moving up the beach toward the dunes.
    "Joshua, wait!" I beg.
    I blink. And he's gone.
    "Joshua!"
    I race to the condo, running every step, taking flights of stairs two steps at a time, lungs flaming.
    "Jesus Christ!" Carter shouts as I stumble inside. "Do you have any idea . . . ?"
    "I saw him," I interrupt, ripping his jacket off, tugging at sleeves, skin slick with cold sweat. "I saw Joshua."
    "What?"
    I struggle to inhale, practicing even, measured breaths. "Joshua," I pant. "He's still here!"
    "Do you need your inhaler?"
    "He didn't even know me, Carter!" I continue, ignoring him. "He didn't remember any of it! He didn't remember training, or Seth. He didn't know I knew about the Guardians at all! He didn't even remember my name !" I swallow back the lump blocking my throat.  "It's the Council. They must have . . . done something to him. When they called everyone away, maybe they made them forget—everyone who had anything to do with me—to keep them from helping me." I stop, chest heaving. "We have to find Mara."
    "Genesis . . ."
    "We have to tell her what happened. We—"
    " Genesis ," he says, voice rising.
    "What?"
    He clears his throat, apprehension simmering, radiating off him in a current of unease for what he's about to tell me—this secret he's kept. "Mara already knows about Joshua."
    I can't fight surprise. " What ? When?"
    "After we left. It was one of the first things the Council did."
    My eyes narrow, heart pounding fury. Resentment. Suffering. "You knew ? This whole time ?"
    He nods.
    "Why didn't you tell me?" I demand to know, shoving words through clenched teeth. "You lied to me! Both of you!"
    "We didn't think it mattered at the time. You needed to focus on Viola and the Council. You didn't need anything else hanging over your head."
    "What else have you lied to me about, Carter? Where is Seth?"
    "That wasn't a lie. Mara doesn't know where Viola is keeping him. She promises they're looking for him, and that she's watching the Council. That's the best she can do right now."
    "How do we know she's not lying about that, too?" I ask, struggling to keep my tone level.
    "I trust her, Genesis. And you do, too."
    He reaches for me and I push him away, anger battering my skull, pounding my insides. "Get away from me!"
    Carter doesn't listen. He draws me into his arms, instead—wraps them tightly around me, refusing to let go even as I thrash violently, desperate to break free.
    My heart falters, emotions tangling, giving in. I lean into him, tears teasing their way from my eyes. And a whisper: "He didn't remember me."
    His broad chest sinks as he exhales, lips plant a soft kiss on my forehead. "I know. I'm so sorry."
    A perfect stillness. A quiet. Nothing but me and Carter and our hearts and their oscillating rhythms. And time—folding into itself, passing, stealing the moment.
    "Look," he finally says. "Tomorrow will be crazy—with my mom's thing and all. We should go out. Do something together. You know, for fun."
    There's a faint crack in his