Page 87 of Morally Corrupt

Undressing, I plop myself into bed. I shift for a while, trying to find a good position when I realize there's something under the pillow. Frowning, I lift it to find a big envelope.

I open it, and I'm amazed to see documents: a passport, social security number, university acceptance. Theo's stuff.

I continue to look through them, and I see a letter addressed to me.

Dear Adrian,

I'm sorry. I'm not sure you'll ever forgive me, but I'll have to take the risk.

I realize I've never valued my identity and my privilege. You were right. I was selfish.

Which is why I hope you can make the best out of it. (Don't worry, no one will miss me!)

You don't have to be a criminal to fight criminals.

I hope you'll take this chance to fight bad with good.

P.S. Classes start in two months! I already picked your courses. Hope you like political science and law.

You can do it!

Your only friend,

Theo

I feel tears run down my cheeks. That idiot! He actually wants me to take his place. I crunch the paper in my fist.

Idiot.

TWO MONTHS LATER

"Hi, where can I register for freshman orientation?" I ask the lady at one of the stands.

"You're at the right place!" she says with a bright smile. "What's your name?"

"Theo… Theodore Hastings." I cringe at my own voice, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"Perfect. Let me get you your ID." She sifts through some papers before handing me a university ID that has a picture Theo had uploaded for me as well as a bunch of freebies and stationaries.

"Welcome to Harvard!" She waves as I go.

Two months ago, Adrian Barnett died in the pit. Theodore Hastings made it out alive.

You were right, Theo, I don't have to stoop to Jimenez's level to get him. I just have to get up high enough.

32

BIANCA

I don't know how much time's passed. Vlad's given me one of his guestrooms, a room bare except for basic necessities. He's advised me how tough the next few days will be, and yet I don't believe him.

As I lay in bed now, my skin drenched in sweat, my body heavy and lethargic, I almost want to beg him to either give me a line or put a bullet through my brain. It's been a while since my mind started playing tricks on me, a fogginess clouding my sight and making me lose track of everything around.

I'm in and out of consciousness.

I sleep and sleep and when I wake, I want to sleep again. At some point, I have to admit to myself that it's not just my body that yearns for that rest, but my mind also doesn't want to face reality.

Whenever I find myself awake, my mind immediately takes me back to my last conversation with Theo. I keep hearing his words, again and again. They keep replaying in my head like an anthem.