Girls with Razor Hearts

This update sends Brynn into tears, and Marcella gathers her into a hug from next to her on the couch.

“We won’t let them suffer the way we did,” Marcella says, comforting her. “We’re going to free them all.” She presses her lips together, resting her chin on the top of Brynn’s head, but I read the fear in her expression. She doesn’t want to break her promise.

“This Connecticut,” Sydney says, looking at Leandra. “How will we pay for things there? Where are we going to live? Because I’m not boarding at another school.”

“I’ll make arrangements for accommodations,” Leandra says. She reaches into the brown bag and pulls out a stack of cash. I gasp and look around at the other girls. “There’s more in there,” Leandra says, nudging the bag. “It’ll be enough to get you started.”

Leandra holds up her arm and turns her wrist to check the time on her watch. “You have to get going,” she says. “I imagine the local police will be alerted soon about the dead men at the school. Although I’m not exactly sure what my husband and the others will tell them, I’ve laid the groundwork for an explanation of your absence.”

My stomach twists as I remember the scene we left behind. “Which is?” I ask.

“Guardian Bose became possessive, dejected. It’s likely that he destroyed all of you and killed Dr. Groger before fleeing—the incinerator is still warm. When I found the doctor’s body in the lab, I was so distraught,” she says innocently. Then she glances at her nails, examining them. “You owe me,” she says. “It wasn’t easy hefting a grown man into an incinerator.”

“So the academy isn’t going to look for us?” Brynn asks, suddenly hopeful.

“Unfortunately,” Leandra says, “they’ll probably open an internal investigation. My husband isn’t going to just assume his products were destroyed without an analysis of the ashes. And when that happens, they’ll realize Bose is dead, most likely by your hands. They’ll send people for you. But they won’t know where to start. You don’t have many friends outside the school. It gives you a bit of time, but not much.”

The girls and I fall silent, disturbed by Leandra’s way of thinking, but at the same time, grateful she helped us get away.

“So who is this kid we’re looking for in Connecticut?” Annalise asks.

“I don’t know,” Leandra says. “That’s what you’ll have to figure out.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Marcella replies.

“Be clever.” Leandra smiles at her, but Marcella shakes her head with frustration. Leandra apologizes for being flippant.

“The child of a man who would create Innovations Academy would be nothing short of a monster,” Leandra says. “I’m sure of it.”

“Oh, that should narrow it down,” Marcella mutters.

“I can come with you,” Imogene offers. I’d nearly forgotten she was standing there. When we all turn to her, she has an earnest expression. But her blinking is still off. Her mouth is too tight in the corners, distorting her features.

Leandra tilts her head while she looks Imogene over. She reaches into the bag once again, but I can’t see what she takes out. She holds it behind her back as she crosses the room toward Imogene.

“Can I ask you, Imogene,” Leandra starts, “who told you to kill your husband? I certainly didn’t suggest it. The timing is … terrible.”

Imogene smiles. “It was the voice,” she answers. “She said it’d make me free.”

Sydney’s grip tightens on my arm. Was someone really talking to Imogene? And did that person threaten Jackson? Or perhaps Imogene was imagining it, and she would have come after us next. I’m not sure which is a more frightening thought.

“I figured you had help,” Leandra says with a sweet smile. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.” She opens her arms to Imogene, who practically falls into the hug, and it pricks my conscience. We should have been kinder to her. Seems she could have used the support. We’ve all been through a lot.

Leandra straightens, reaching to run her left hand over Imogene’s hair to brush it back.

“I’m afraid it’s another lesson, girls,” Leandra says to us, although she’s still staring at Imogene.

“Lesson?” I ask.

“For you to keep your heads.” Leandra brings a long metal rod out from behind her back and drives it into Imogene’s temple. There is a loud snap, and then Imogene’s eyes immediately go blank and she collapses to the ground in a heap. The girls and I scream in alarm.

“What are you doing?” Sydney shouts. We’re frantic, Sydney clawing at my arm to pull me to my feet.

Leandra stares down at Imogene’s body rather than at us. “She was compromised,” she says. “It’s better this way, trust me.”

“What do you mean ‘compromised’?” My voice is hoarse, steeped in horror.

“Her programming was damaged,” Leandra clarifies. “Not every girl can handle the transition, the truth. Imogene was unable to make calculated decisions, and it made her a liability. It wouldn’t have taken Anton but a moment to download our entire conversation from her memory. It’s a pity.” She pauses a long beat, and the sound of our breathing—ragged, terrified breathing—echoes throughout the room.

“Now take the money and go,” Leandra says. “Make your way to the main street. There’s a bus stop on the left. Ride it to the station.”

She turns to us finally, and I hate the coldness in her expression. I think about how I sent Jackson away, the coldness in which I told Quentin our secret. I don’t want to be like Leandra, but if we plan to survive, we may not have a choice.

We start to leave, and Brynn watches Imogene’s body on the floor as she passes. Tears spill onto her cheeks.

Another girl is dead. Another girl that society won’t miss because she doesn’t count to them. And Leandra willingly cut her down to further her own purpose.

It means we’re all expendable to her. Once we get the corporation shut down, accomplish the larger goal, will she do the same to us? It’s a question that is going to haunt me as long as we’re involved with her.

“Let’s go,” Sydney says to me, grabbing the strap of the bag as we head toward the door. Marcella stops, turning back to Leandra.

“You’re a monster,” Marcella says. “You know that, right?”

Leandra smiles. “You’re newly awake,” she says. “You don’t understand yet.” Her expression falters. “You have no idea what you’ll have to do to truly win your freedom. And do me a favor,” she adds. “Be sure to let me know if the voice gets louder.”

Marcella starts in surprise, and she quickly turns away and hurries out the door with Brynn. Does Leandra know how Marcella brought us here, or how Brynn heard something that made her come downstairs to find the body in the bathtub? Is it … Could it be the same voice that Imogene heard?

Maybe it wasn’t a flaw in her programming at all.

“Whose voice did Imogene hear?” I ask Leandra. Her expression is unreadable.

“A leftover voice in her programming, I suspect,” she says, sweeping her eyes over me. “You’ll all have it in some form or another now that you’re awake. Don’t forget, Philomena. You’re not human, no matter how often someone might try to convince you otherwise. You’re not truly feeling any of this.”