Pawn by Aimée Carter

tonight.”
    Waiting for my answer, no doubt, but I already knew what it was going to be. I wasn’t impersonating Lila to do the same things she’d done and die the same way she had. Daxton was in charge, and as long as I followed his lead, as long as I played his game, I’d be safe. As long as he still needed me, I would be alive. That was what mattered, not Lila’s speeches or Celia’s need for revenge. No matter what good they were trying to do, the Harts had ruined enough of my life already. I wasn’t going to get involved in some twisted game between them regardless of what I believed. Because above all, I was one person, and all I had was my life. I wasn’t going to do anything to give that up again.
    We reached the elevator a few minutes later, and as it rose, I watched Celia in the mirrored wall. What if it was a trap? What if Celia or Daxton saw my not giving an answer as a sign that I could turn?
    I already knew what it was going to be anyway. There was no point in waiting to tell her.
    “Celia?” I said, steeling myself against her anger. “What happened to your daughter is terrible, and I don’t blame you for wanting to do—whatever it is you want to do to Daxton. But I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”
    Instead of getting upset, Celia met my gaze in the mirror, her expression impassive. “All right. If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be.”
    “I’m not going to,” I said. No matter how bad I felt for her, staying alive for Benjy was much more important. “Can I ask you something?”
    “If you must.”
    I hesitated. “Why didn’t you kill Daxton when you found out what he’d done to Lila?”
    For a long moment, she said nothing. At last she met my eyes, and to my surprise, she wore a small smile. “Who says I didn’t try?”
    I didn’t respond. Whether she’d tried or not, I didn’t see how she could sit across a table from the people who had murdered her daughter and act like nothing had happened. I had a hard enough time looking Daxton in the eye, knowing he’d had Tabs killed.
    The elevator door opened to reveal the rooftop, and a blast of cold air hit my face. It was still so early that the sky was painted a warm rainbow of colors, and something tugged inside me. On clear mornings, Benjy and I would climb onto the roof of our group home to watch the sunrise, and it made each day a little more bearable. Now all it did was remind me of what I would never have again.
    Daxton was waiting for us in front of the jet, wearing his usual winning smile. “I’ll have her back by sunset,” he promised, taking my arm from Celia. She scowled, and before I could say goodbye, Daxton ushered me up a narrow flight of steps and into the interior of the jet.
    I’d never been on a plane before, and my stomach flip-flopped nervously. It was larger than I’d imagined from the outside. White leather armchairs were scattered throughout the cabin, and three of them faced a fireplace dancing with colorful flames that almost looked real. Other seats surrounded a table firmly attached to the floor, and a huge television screen covered a wall halfway down the length of the plane. Beside it was a narrow passageway that led to another door.
    “What’s that?” I said, peering down the corridor.
    “A bedroom,” said Daxton offhandedly, as if having a place to sleep in the middle of the sky was no big deal. It probably wasn’t to him, since he’d grown up with this kind of luxury. Never mind the fact that it could undoubtedly have kept the entire population of the Heights in food and clothing meant for VIs for the rest of their lives.
    No, I couldn’t think like that—the way Celia wanted me to, the way Lila had before she’d been killed. I wasn’t them. I hadn’t been born into endless privilege, and I was making the right decision. Sticking with Daxton would buy me enough time to contact Benjy and come up with a plan to get out of this mess. At the first hint that Daxton was done with me,