UNBREATHABLE Read Online Free PDF Page A

without moving.
    “Would you believe me? No. So no, I’m not going to explain. Not yet.”
    I consider sitting still, but if he can drug me and bring me here, wherever we are, then fighting him won’t make a difference. More than anything else, I can learn something from him. Something about Father, who might not even be my father.
    I slowly unfold my legs and stand.
    He releases a deep breath and opens the door. I follow him down a long hall. Compared to the room, it’s dim, but still lit with something other than a candle. I can tell we’re in a house, but when I try to imagine it on the outside, I can’t remember anything as long.
    He stops at the end of the hall, in front of a sliding door.
    “I can't give you back Gage,” he says. His eyes are sad. “But I will give you what I can.”
    He speaks as if he knows me. In truth, he does. But he speaks like he has known me all my life as a friend, maybe more. But I've only known him for days as an enemy.
    I stare at him, until the resolve to hate him crumbles inside me.
    But there is nothing he can give me. There is nothing I expect to see on the other side that will fix anything in my ruined life. But when he opens the door, I realize there is something I’d like. The knowledge that someone didn’t die because of me.
    The boy from the Chamber.
     

 
    The small bed pushed against the dirty wall groans as the boy scrambles to his feet. His lean, pale arms are a stark contrast to the short sleeves of his black shirt.
    There is nothing to show the pain he endured since last night, aside from a dirty bandage wrapped around his forearm, where I’m guessing glass must have cut through.
    He’s breathing. He’s alive.
    But I don't know how he’s here. I don't know why the soldier would protect him in a room with a bed where he can rest. The boy runs a nervous hand through his hair.
    “Lissa?”
    My lips part in surprise. Even  he  knows my name.
    “I was there,” he hurries to explain. “On the day of your father's trial when Chancellor Kole called you out in front of everyone.”
    I stifle the ridiculous urge to snort. On Jutaire, trial is a fancy word for dragging people to a noose and letting their bodies dangle for the world to see. Though what happened to Father was a trial, of sorts. For me.
    “Lissa?” The boy says again, pulling me away from the blood dripping down Father's only white shirt.
    “I didn't realize you were there,” I say.
    It seemed to be Father, Chancellor Kole, and me. Everything else was in the background, fuzzy and blurry. But everyone was there, everyone knows me.
    “And you are?” I trail off.
    “Julian,” he replies softly.
    And then: “What were you doing in the Chamber last night?”
    I catch the slight undercurrent of accusation in his voice. It was my fault he was caught, though clearly he was saved. Slate steps inside before I can answer and Julian looks away.
    “Did you find her?” Julian asks him. His easy tone and the way they look at each other tell me they know each other well.
    “Who?” Slate raises his eyebrows.
    “Your daughter,” he replies as if the answer is obvious.
    Slate stiffens. ”No.”
    Julian heaves an exasperated sigh. “You said you had a lead. You said you knew—”
    “Stop.” Slate’s voice echoes in the room. Julian freezes, and tension rises, heavy and thick.
    “When I find her, you’ll know,” Slate says softly and the tension disappears into the crevices between every little crack in the walls around us.
    Julian mutters something inaudible and rakes his long fingers through his hair again. Each strand is a fine line of the night sky. I memorize this way to read him, because I know he is nervous. He catches me looking.
    I look away quickly. Father taught me to control my eyes and voice. But he never told me how to stop the color from blossoming on my face.
    I throw a glance up. The boy still isn’t wearing a mask. Then again, I’m sure there’s oxygen inside the house, though