Part 7
Over dinner Tobin tells the others about the chip. I see by the distrustful way Ashe watches me eat that our little talk this morning didn’t change his mind in the least about me. As long as I have this chip, as long as I don’t remember who I was before the culling, he’s going to expect me to bolt. But he wasn’t at the facility; he doesn’t know what it’s like. And he doesn’t have Tobin fawning over him—he doesn’t feel these small touches or see these covert smiles, these twinkling eyes meant for me alone. I’m never going near the facility, ever again, and I’m never letting Tobin out of my sight. But Ashe doesn’t realize that.
Naphalie does. She smiles at us from across the table as if she knows Tobin’s hand rests high up on my thigh and the touch tingles through my jeans, as if s
