Genevieve Cogman

“I honestly thought you’d be happier if you knew nothing about it for the rest of your life. Was I wrong?”

Irene slumped in her chair. “No, you weren’t. Everyone’s going to say that, aren’t they? ’It was for your own good.’”

“Something you’ll learn as you get older is that truth and reconciliation may be necessary for nations, but it isn’t necessarily best for individuals.”

Irene realized she was on the point of shouting. Worse, of being ungrammatical. She took a deep breath.

If my friends—my brothers and sisters—have sacrificed themselves, then it was their choice. You, on the other hand, have lied to us and kept us in the dark and used us. You’re probably going to tell me that you did it for a higher cause, that you were just protecting us. But true higher causes don’t have everyone deserting them when they find out the truth, grandmother. Genuine ethical purposes don’t have everyone walking out once they know what’s really going on. And causes that people care enough to die for…”

“Very well. Then our conversation is over.”

“Aren’t you going to threaten me?” Irene asked.

“Miss Winters, if you don’t already feel threatened, I’m not doing my job properly.”

My dear Miss Winters,

You will have realized by now that I intend to bring down irretrievable ruin on you, your loved ones, your friends and associates, your workplace, and anything else that comes to mind. Please don’t feel obliged to thank me. It is my pleasure entirely.

“Everyone’s being hypocritical,” she muttered. “Is there anyone around here who doesn’t want something from us while acting innocent? We need to find out what’s really going on before everyone does the wrong thing for the right reasons.”

“May I be frank?” Sherrington asked.

Irene sighed. This was always the sign of a fast-approaching insult.

I think the time for blind trust is long over. Now I need answers.

I don’t care about politics or the greater good or universal peace or whatever. I just want to be left in peace with books.

“But don’t make the same mistakes that we have, Irene.” Her mouth quirked in a smile. “Make some new ones.”

Catherine looked as if she was about to boil over. “We have been poisoned,” she said again. “We’re about to die! I’ll never get at those books!”

“Now, that’s the right attitude,” Kai agreed, glad to see her demonstrating a proper sense of priorities.

It was the sort of overly complex plan dreamed up by armchair manipulators who thought they could play chess with the universe and didn’t realize that the universe ignored rulebooks.