Once We Were Starlight

My brain was buzzing. I was taking in what Cody Rutland was saying, but I was having trouble organizing it into anything that made sense in my mind. But when I saw the rage simmering in Zakai’s expression, I knew he understood more than I did and it was rendering him intensely angry and practically mute.

Cody Rutland laced his fingers together on the table. “From what we can determine, Haziq’s methods for compelling people to work on Sundara ranged from offering an end to a desperate, or in some instances, life-or-death situation, to creating one himself and then stepping in as if to help. In a few rare cases he seemed to have forced people to work for him, but they’re the exception, not the rule. I got the feeling individuals he’d forced were more likely to cause trouble among the others and not worth the effort.”

“And us?” Zakai demanded. “We weren’t tricked or coerced.”

Cody Rutland sat back, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table for a moment. “You and Karys are a different subject, by virtue of the fact that you were brought to Sundara as children. We’re still looking into your situation, but I do have information for Karys and where she came from.”

Zakai’s grip tightened on my hand as I leaned forward. “Where I came from?”

“The green shutters,” Cody Rutland said softly, his eyes meeting mine. He flipped open a folder on the table in front of him and I gasped, bringing my hand over my mouth in shock. Cody Rutland turned the picture that had caught my eye toward me and I dropped my hand, my mouth gaping, staring at it with wide eyes. I knew that place. It lived inside my memories.

“Where is it?” I asked.

“Not far from here. It’s an orphanage. You lived there as a child. The woman who cared for you passed away several years ago but her daughter runs it now and, thankfully, her mother kept meticulous records.”

“Who is she?” Zakai asked softly, and I heard the faraway echo of grief in his tone. She. He meant me.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly. “I’m only Karys, the other half of—”

“Who is she?” Zakai repeated, more forcefully this time.

Cody Rutland pressed his lips together, his eyes moving between us, a veil of sadness dulling his eyes. “She’s the daughter of a girl local to the town where the orphanage is, and a U.S. soldier who served in the area seventeen years ago and was killed in the line of duty. Unfortunately, your mother died giving birth and her family couldn’t afford to raise you.”

Cody pulled another picture from the file and I gasped as he handed it to me. “It’s her,” I whispered, looking upon the woman with a smile like sunshine. I closed my eyes and blew out a long breath, my thoughts flapping inside my head like the raucous beats of a hundred birds taking off in flight. “She’s dead. My parents are dead too,” I said after a moment, and my voice sounded far away. The sudden hope that had jumped in my breast was now fading away like the soaring birds, off into the great beyond.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Your parents are dead. But your father had a brother. He lives in New York City, and he’d very much like for you to go live with him.”

I blinked. “New York City?”

“She doesn’t know maps,” Zakai said softly, turning his head for the first time and looking at me. “I’m sorry about that. I’m so sorry. I made sure Ahmad didn’t teach them to you. He argued. He would have eventually, despite my insistence, only . . .”

“Only . . .” I whispered. Only Ahmad had hanged himself from the wall of Sundara.

“That’s okay,” Cody said, bringing me from the memory that still caused an unbearable ache in my heart. “We have a globe around here somewhere. In any case, New York City is over five thousand miles from here. It’s across the ocean.”

I stared at him. I knew miles. Ahmad had taught them to me. Miles were a measure of distance. I squinted, thinking I must be mis-remembering my lessons. How could anything be that far? And across the ocean? There were places across the ocean? How could that be? I didn’t understand. I felt as though the room had begun spinning and I gripped Zakai so I wouldn’t fall from my chair. I felt his skin, warm and familiar. “And Zakai?” I asked, fear like cold wind whipping in my veins.

“Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to determine where Zakai came from and Haziq says he can’t remember. Likely that’s a lie, but without any information from him, we’re at a dead end.” He looked at Zakai but Zakai looked away. “You said you remembered being hungry and living on the streets. We have to assume Haziq took you in, but for what reason, we don’t know. Perhaps he planned to sell you to someone else but never did . . . we have no confirmation of that, only speculation.” Cody Rutland blew out a long breath. “As the victim of trafficking, there are places here that will help you get on your feet, learn a skill, become—”