Adam’s smile was wolfish as he glanced back over.
My shoulders hurt from shoveling dirt and we had barely made a dent on the plot. I exhaled, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm.
“Don’t they have machines that do this?”
“They do.”
“So why are we doing this?”
“Because it’s part of the initiation.”
“To dig a hole in the ground?” I set the shovel into the ground and looked at him. He was just standing there, all cool as a cucumber as he watched me do the hard work. “Please don’t tell me I’m digging my own hole.”
“You’re not. Yours is back at The Manor.”
“So whose is this one?”
“Who knows?”
“What do you mean who knows? Adam, you’re not making any sense.”
“Keep digging, Eva. I’ll let you know when you’re done.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“You know what’s not ridiculous? Fifty grand in your bank account in a few days if you pass these little tests.”
I kept digging. A little faster now. I exhaled and set the shovel down again, about to reach for my water bottle, when I felt the shovel tap something. I glanced up at Adam.
“I thought you said there was nothing in these plots.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I think I just . . . I think I just hit something.”
“You should keep digging.”
“Adam, I think this is a casket.” I stepped away, taking my shovel with me.
“You should open it.”
“What?”
“You should open the casket.”
My heart roared as I stared at him. He was completely serious. I took a step toward the hole. I definitely hadn’t dug six feet. Not even two. How was there a casket buried so close to the top?
“I can’t see,” I said. “I need a flashlight.”
He walked over with his cell phone flashlight on and aimed it at the ground. Sure enough, there was a glossy brown casket there.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to open it,” I said.
“Try.”
“Are you going to help me?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Well, what you’re doing is a crime and while you could go to court and argue that I helped you commit this ridiculous crime, I think we both know I’ll have a better lawyer.”
“You’re framing me?” My jaw dropped as I stood up. Taking my gloves off one by one, I threw them at him, then continued walking as he walked backward. I pushed his chest. “After you took me to your mother’s house so she could diagnose me because you thought I was crazy, now you’re framing me?”
“Relax.” Adam laughed loudly, putting his phone away to dodge my slaps. “I’m kidding dammit.”
I stopped hitting him. “What?”
“I’m kidding. You do need to open the casket though.” He took a deep breath and let it out, still chuckling.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s actually pretty funny.” He looked at his phone and played the video.
“I will murder you if you show that to anyone.”
“I’ll keep it in my private collection.” He grinned and it caught me off guard. “Open the casket.”
“Right.” I blinked, grabbing the gloves from the ground and the shovel.
Adam decided to help me after all. After the door to the casket popped up, he stepped back again. I grabbed onto his arm as I looked inside. There didn’t seem to be a body in there, just a garment bag. On top of it was a white envelope with the name Stella Thompson. I reached for the envelope first and hesitated on the bag. What if it had human remains in it? The Swords did seem sick enough to do something like that, after all. Fifty grand, I reminded myself. Fifty grand. I stepped forward, reached down, and grabbed the garment bag. It definitely didn’t have anything heavy in it.
“It’s a cloak,” Adam said. “Read the note.”
I ripped open the envelope and took out the card, reading it as he illuminated his flashlight on it.
You have been hand-selected to join The Swords.
Should you pass our test, you will be welcomed into our organization.
Doors will open.
Money will flow.
Opportunities will arise.
Unbreakable bonds will form.
The Swords is a historically male-driven society.
You are one of the few women chosen.
This gift is not to be taken lightly.
When it comes time to make your choice tomorrow tonight, keep that in mind.
Choose wisely.
Wear this tomorrow.
9 p.m.
P.S. Don’t take your meds.
Don’t take my meds? How did they even know about my meds? I put it away and unzipped the bag. It was a white and gold cloak.
“When do I get a red one?” I zipped it back up.
“When you’re an official member.”
He helped me close the casket and put the dirt back on it. When we were done, he grabbed a spray can sitting nearby and sprayed a big red S on it. We walked back to the car, me drinking water and holding the bag. Him, carrying the shovels and gloves. Inside the car, I felt myself melt onto the seat as he drove.
“Hey, how’d you figure out my name was Eva?”
“I saw it at The Institute the other day.”
“How?”
“I met your sister.”
His words slammed into me. I sat up straight. “What?”
“I met your sister. She’s in there, but her file has your name on it.”
“How can that be?” I whispered. “So she’s not missing.”
“Missing?”
“That’s how . . . ” I shook my head and started from the top. I told Adam everything, from Karen to Stella to Dr. Thompson and Dr. Maslow. I tried to condense my whole life story into short paragraphs. I spoke fast and went in circles, but ended up coming back to the same point: I needed to meet my sister.
Chapter Sixteen
The burial was tonight, but I needed to find Aisha ASAP. Adam said he would see what he could find in The Institute and begged me not to show up there. We decided last night that if Stella was in there and I was out here, the Maslows may have something to do with it. My hands itched with the urge to call Dr. Thompson, but I waited. I needed to be sure he wasn’t in on this too.
I was standing outside of Aisha’s one o’clock class, my gaze fixed on the door. I’d skipped Stella’s Psychology of Motherhood class. In my defense, I’d gone to the class, and when I arrived and found a man teaching it, I opted out. I wasn’t in the mood for lectures today and I certainly wasn’t in the mood to take a class on motherhood given by a man who didn’t know the first thing about womanhood to begin with. At three-fifteen, the doors to Aisha’s class opened and people started spilling out. I caught a glimpse of her rummaging through her messenger bag as she walked, and started to walk in her direction. She was pulling out her phone when I reached her, and stumbled back a step when she glanced up and saw me standing there.
“I told you I didn’t want to speak to you.”