Nightingale Read Online Free Page A

it through my hair. “It’s no use. I need scissors or something to get these out.” I drop the handful of hair I’m holding.
    Mother lifts the brush from my fingers and begins gently working on the ends of my hair. She repositions my body so that I’m looking in the mirror and I watch as she transforms my hair from a wild halo of knots, to a low sleek bun. Just like the one she often wears.
    Mother gives me the once over. “You look much better.”
    “I feel better.” I stare at my reflection, realizing it’s true. I’ve never worn my hair like this before. It makes me look more mature.
    “Kyra,” Mother says into her wristlet. “Lark is ready to see you.”
    Not even three seconds later, the air across the room pops and Kyra steps out of nothing.  She rushes toward me and draws me into a bear hug. As usual, she’s full of energy and immediately launches into a rapid-fire series of questions. “How are you? Feeling better? What do you want to do? I found this new gossip feed that only reports on the latest fashions. It’s insane.”
    “Slow down!” I hold up my hands in surrender. “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “I’ll leave you girls alone. I’m sure you have much to discuss.” Out of the corner of my eyes, I notice Mother point to her wristlet.
    Kyra gives a barely noticeable nod before grabbing my hand in hers and leading me over to the fireplace. She sits on the floor in front of me, cross-legged, elbows on her knees. I copy her. Behind us, a subtle pop lets me know Mother has transported from the room.
    “Maz said to say ‘ heya .’ He and Ryker can’t wait to see you! We’re planning a fun night out once it’s okay.”
    Going out has never been something I do. Even when we reached year ten and were allowed to visit the social center in the evenings, I preferred to stay home.
    “I don’t know. I don’t feel like going anywhere.” The thought of venturing outside of my safe cave frightens me. What if I hurt someone?
    “Where are you living?” I ask. “At our house? Maybe I could come over?”
    She shakes her head. “No. Malin told everyone that Maz, me, and the others were State spies or something. We weren’t allowed to move back home since we’re heroes and played an important role in rescuing you.”
    Ah, so that’s how Mother explained how my once Sensitive friends are no longer enemies of the State: they weren’t actually Sensitives.
    “Not that it matters,” Kyra continues. “Everyone was sent to their parents’. Only a few of us are still in the City: me, you, Maz, Ryker, Lena, and Matson.” She tugs at the fibers of the shaggy carpet. “It’s boring without everyone around. Empty.”
    I nod. I can understand that. Despite having my own room at Summer Hill, I’m still not used to being alone at night. Sometimes, I wake and imagine Beck sleeping across the room, his arm flung over his head and a book resting on his chest.
    “Is Beck dead?” I blurt.
    Kyra’s flinches. “Yesterday, Maz was supposed to hire a musician for our binding.” Her shoulders tense as she ignores my question. “Do you know what he did?”
    “If you knew, could you tell me?” I ask, determined in my questioning.
    This time my friend grimaces. She keeps her hands in her lap, twisting them.
    “Maz hired a band,” she continues. “But not a classically trained band. No. My future mate hired a traveling band of musicians. They probably have nothing in their repertoire that’s acceptable.”
    “Kyra, I don’t want to talk about this. Not right now. Maybe after you tell me what you know about Beck.”
    Her shoulders sag and her face contorts. For a moment, it looks like she’s trying to not be sick. She wraps her hand over her wristlet. “I can’t talk to you about him,” she lip-speaks. At school, when we didn’t want anyone to hear us, we had a way of lip-speaking to each other. I touch Kyra’s knee with one hand and point to my lips with the other.
    Is he okay? I ask