The Girl Who Dared to Think by Bella Forrest (best novels of all time TXT) 📗

it didn’t, and I began paying attention to the computerized voice.

“Verified—Roe Zoe Elphesian, designation 12WT-531. Your ranking is currently five. As a Diver of Water Treatment, it is your responsibility to—”

I tuned the rest out and immediately looked at Zoe, my eyes searching for her wrist. She was already holding it up, and as she stared at it, I could see the orange light from the number shining on her wrist.

“Zoe, I’m...”

She looked over at me and folded her arms over her chest, hiding the indicator. “It’s to be expected,” she said, her gaze on the numbers gliding by.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. Your mom is going to—”

“Have to deal with it,” Zoe replied, giving me a pointed look before turning her attention back to the shaft. I stared at her, feeling hopelessly guilty for opening my big fat mouth, and finally looked away. Soon Roark was going to have to start making enough pills for Zoe, too. It was the only way to keep her safe from what I’d already exposed her to, and to keep her from the fate we were trying to save Grey from.

The ride felt abnormally long, and the silence between us quickly became too difficult to bear. I needed to talk, to fill the air, but I knew mentioning her new ranking would not end well, so I focused on something else.

“Aren’t pipe charts maps?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “They’re charts.” She stopped talking, and I thought that was the end of it, but suddenly she had a change of heart, her body softening its stiff posture and turning toward me. “Actually, a pipe chart is kind of like a map, but it’s designed to show each and every pipe that water flows through in the Tower. They’re standard issue for all Water Treatment personnel, so we can locate and fix leaks quickly. Don’t you remember this from class?”

I was shaking my head when the elevator slowed to a gentle halt, and I got off quickly, thinking. “Why do we need one?” I asked after a moment, following her down the fluorescently painted halls, which glowed brightly in greens, pinks, and blues.

We climbed up a series of stairs that led to a bridge over a massive glass pipe. I heard a wet splash and looked over to see two bald men diving into the water that was rushing through the pipe, arms first, with black, flute-shaped objects clenched between their teeth—artificial gills to help them breathe as they navigated the aquatic spaces. They were likely a work detail running repairs in the system, but their presence reminded me that we weren’t alone, and not everything in the Tower was as private as it seemed.

We were heading down the stairs on the other side of the bridge when Zoe answered me. “Because I have an idea, but before it can become a reality, I have to check to see if it is actually possible.”

I was unamused by her indirect answer, but went with it. Zoe was smart, and I had known her my entire life. I trusted her implicitly, because she had never steered me wrong, and she cared more about me than some stupid number on my wrist. I followed her through the open market that had been set up around the fishponds—a more peaceful and tranquil place than Cogstown’s market—and through the wide hall that eventually narrowed and led to her quarters.

She pressed the button to open the door, and I stepped inside, directly into the living room. I was surprised to find Zoe’s mother sitting on the couch, her suit dripping liberally onto the cushions even though she was fastidiously towel-drying it.

“Hello, Liana,” she greeted formally, and I inclined my head to her. Helena was a Cog-bred Diver, and had changed departments when she was just eighteen to marry Zoe’s father. He’d died a few years ago of a heart attack, which was rare, but still happened from time to time. “Hello, Zoe, darling. How was your day?” she asked.

“Good,” Zoe said, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. “Liana and I are going to do some studying. Is that okay?”

Zoe lied effortlessly, and I was impressed by how easily the fib slid off her tongue. Her mother gave her an appraising look and then turned to me, her smile pleasant. She was always pleasant; she was also deeply religious, having completely embraced the Water Ways. And she loved to tell everyone all about it.

“I hear you’re a nine now,” she said as Zoe clattered down the ladder.

I held up my wrist. “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Been pretty steady for the last few days.”

She chuckled. Her own eight glittered on her wrist, the purple color making it seem more like a bruise than an eight. “Never thought you’d have a higher number than me,” she said, smiling. “Scipio works in strange ways.”

I thought of Grey in the cell. “It would seem so.”

“Mom?” Zoe interjected, and her mother looked over at her.

“Yes?”

“May we go to my room?”

“Well, of course! Just...” She trailed off as her gaze lowered to Zoe’s wrist, her eyes growing concerned. “Zoe, your ranking dropped.”

Zoe’s mouth formed a thin line. “I know.” It was all she said.

“What do you mean, you know? What happened?”

Zoe kept her eyes on her mother, not betraying me with a glance, and the guilt that had started to settle within me churned back up. “It just dropped,” Zoe announced.

“Rankings don’t just drop, Zoe,” her mother declared angrily, and I sensed she was just getting warmed up. “And five is dangerously low. We should get you checked into the Medica immediately. Or I can call the Praetor, and maybe he can find some time to light a prayer with you.”

“I’m not a child, Mom,” Zoe said. “I’m twenty, which means two things. The first is that I don’t have to go to Medica, even if you order me to. It’s not mandatory until I’m a three. The second is that next year, I’ll be twenty-one, and