Rage began to heat in Nate’s chest but he knew not to show it. Instead he put an innocent, puzzled look on his face. “Gosh, Dad. Why do you have pictures of me and Cassie?”
“Because you’re my son and you can’t be too careful,” his father said. “You’re the son of the Provost. You’re going to be Provost yourself someday. There can’t be any hint of a scandal in your past.”
“Provosts are chosen by the system,” Nate said, legitimately confused this time. “It’s not inherited.”
His father looked smug. “We’ll just see about that, my boy. Your dad has some plans in place.”
“Dad. I’m not going to be Provost. I don’t want to be.”
A familiar coldness came into his father’s eyes. “You’ll do what I tell you, son. I’ve done a lot to increase the position of the Provost here. You’re going to do even more. Your son will do even more. And the next thing you know, they’ll be talking about the reign of the Allens. They’ll be talking about Overseer Allen or President Allen.”
Nate felt the blood drain out of his face. He’d had no idea his father’s delusions of power ran this deep. Automatically he glanced into the living room, where his mother sat as still as a statue in her chair. She was dressed and tidy, all matching, hair done, but her face was blank. Had she seen this side of his father? Had she objected to it? Is that why he’d sent her away for a mood-adjust?
It was one thing for his father to be power-hungry. It was another thing for him to expect the same of Nate.
“I’ve been slated for higher schooling,” Nate said stiffly. “We can talk about it after that.” Because he would be long gone by then and would never see him again. He hoped.
His father’s icy green eyes bored holes in Nate’s skull. “There’s nothing to talk about, Nathaniel. This is the right path for you, and you will follow it! And when you’re my age you’ll thank me for it!”
Highly unlikely, Dad, Nate thought, but said nothing. Saying nothing had served him pretty well so far in his messed-up life.
The Provost tapped the photos on the table. “You know this girl, this Cassandra. You know she’s been expelled from school? That she’s had her vocation taken away?”
Nate frowned. “Yeah, I heard that, but I was sure it was a mistake. Cassie’s a Goody Two-shoes.”
“It was no mistake, son. We’ve determined that the Greenfields are weeds, and they must be uprooted!”
“What?” Nate blurted. “Who determined that?”
“Never you mind. Lucky for you, I’ve taken steps to avoid having you tainted by the Greenfield independence. This girl, Cassandra, is salt! And she will ruin every acre she touches!” His face was turning red: Nate’s signal to disappear.
This was just craziness. He had to find Cassie immediately. He needed to help her plan her escape.
“Okay, gotta go, Dad.”
“You wait a minute, young man! We’re not done talking!”
“Yes. We are.” Nate grabbed his moped key and headed for the door. “You’ve gotten it all wrong, Dad,” he yelled over his shoulder. “You always get it all wrong!”
59
CASSIE’S HOUSE WAS DARK. HER moped was gone. Shit. Nate headed to where there might be people hanging out, some of whom might have news of Cassie: school.
Actually, he was still freaking about what his dad had just revealed: That he’d been overreaching his position as Provost. That he expected Nate to continue in his power-mongering ways.
It was hard to admit—this was his dad, after all—but Nate had just realized that he wasn’t simply an egomaniac who should be avoided or circumvented as much as possible. That last conversation had revealed that his father needed to be stopped. He needed to be taken out. For the good of the people.
Nate would just have to figure out how.
At school, the only kids still around were the soccer teams. He had no idea if Cassie was friends with any of them. Probably. She was pretty popular. He parked his moped, grinning slightly as he moved the chain holding his new radio in place. The look on Cassie’s face when she’d seen that…
“Nate.” Eddie Carter, still sweaty and in uniform, nodded at him. His mom was waiting in their beat-up van.
“Yo, Eddie,” Nate said casually. “Hey, you seen Cassie Greenfield around?”
Eddie’s friendly face immediately shut down. “Naw, man,” he said, and headed to his mom’s car.
The Provost’s influence. The blanket of fear that had crept over the cell in the last couple of years with hardly anyone noticing.