The Gift Read Online Free PDF

not!” Byron shouts, tightening his grip. “They
need
to see it.”
    “You are truly horrific!” I screech, practically clawing at his hands for it. But Byron, being weaselly, is an artful dodger,
     and I have to attack him like a lioness to get my hands on the thing.
    “Wisty,” Janine says out of the blue, steely and determined as she pulls away from Whit’s comforting arms. “He’s right. I
     need to see it. What they did to her.”
    I exchange a defeated glance with Whit and step to another counter so I don’t have to be so close to Weasel Boy. He holds
     the phone up triumphantly, and though I try to turn away, I can’t.
    In the most stomach-turning slow-motion replay I’ve ever seen, we watch Margo’s complete disintegration by The One Who Is
     The One. Her hood, her clothes, the skin of her hands, her wonderful sneakers, turn gray for an instant and then she just
     kind of comes apart, billowing away in a puff of crematory ash.
    “You see,” he explains as the footage continues, “they want everyone to believe Wisty is dead. So, because of my connections
     high up at the Ministry of Information—my father, to be precise—I was able to hack into their system and share some truth
     with the world.”
    I look closely. He’s evidently got his weaselly hands on a broadcast from Channel One Who Is The One—
and changed it.
The caption accompanying the footage now reads: THE PERSON EXECUTED HERE WAS NOT WISTERIA ALLGOOD BUT AN INNOCENT GIRL NAMED MARGO. THIS WAS A MURDER.
    The screen cuts back to the totally annoyed news anchor. “People of the New Order,” she says, “as you can see, a small group
     of terrorists is attempting to undermine our broadcasts. Pay no attention to that absurd caption under the pictures. We are
     getting unequivocal verification from the Office of Executions that the public enemy seen here is indeed
Wisteria Allgood.
”
    Now Byron’s manipulated caption reads: IF IT IS WISTERIA ALLGOOD, WHY IS SHE IN A HOOD SO WE CAN’T SEE HER FACE?
    The newscaster puts her finger to her earpiece—clearly her producer or producers are urgently advising her about what to do
     next.
    “Citizens of the New Order,” she continues, “the Office of Executions wishes all to note that the single reason Wisteria Allgood
     is in a hood is that witches cannot cast spells when they have hoods over their heads.”
    Byron smiles smugly. Another caption appears under the newscaster: LIAR! WE CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES.
    Whit and I are speechless. My brother actually looks impressed with Byron’s efforts, while I’m thinking he just ruined my
     chances of hiding from all the New Order–loving neighborhood snitches.
    I launch another lioness attack, and Whit catches me just in time.
    “Stay out of my life, you creep! Did it ever occur to you that I might be perfectly
happy
to be presumed dead?”
    “I say way to go, Byron baby,” Sasha cuts in smoothly. “You looking to be our leader of the week anytime soon?”
    “Over my dead body.” I glare at Sasha. He’d been referring to the Freeland tradition of appointing leaders for one week at
     a time—to avoid the corruption that power usually brings.
    “I highly recommend you get over it, Wisty,” says Mr. Patronizing. “You’re all lead characters in the New Order’s most wanted
     primetime public-informant program. He’s now got photos of everybody from the raids—including Janine, Jamilla, Emmet, and
     Sasha.”
    Silence. Janine finally asks the question on everyone’s mind. “How…?”
    “Those displays we see out on the streets in their part of the Overworld? They’re
two
-way. If you’re looking at one of his newscasts, chances are he’s looking at you, too.”
    “That’s impossible,” Whit says, dismissing Byron’s idea.
    “You doubt me? Then check
this
out,” he says. “Not onlyis he all over the New Order broadcasts, he’s making his way into
our
transmissions. Look.”
    Byron snaps a picture of himself with the