The Numbered Corpses (Elysium #4)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Trinket and Daphne eventually made it to the Clocktower. Trinket felt it was a little early to be indulging in heavy liquor, but she sipped her tea with no judgement while Daphne enjoyed the alehouse's cheap gin. Even without imbibing, Trinket found herself spilling truths she had yet to speak out loud.

"I'm afraid Booker is going to replace me with Benedict."

Daphne nearly choked on her third glass of gin, and after slapping her chest a few times, she looked up at Trinket as though she had two heads.

"I don't mean completely replace me," Trinket amended quickly. "I know he loves me. He'd never throw me out or anything like that. But I worry he'll choose Benedict as his assistant . . . partner . . . whatever it is I am to him down in that laboratory."

Nodding slowly, Daphne took another sip of gin.

"And I know it's a silly thing to get upset about. We could have a wonderful life together, even with Benedict in the picture. But . . ."

She wandered off, still trying to figure out her feelings. Daphne leaned over and reached for Trinket's hand, gently squeezing it in encouragement.

Trinket gave a soft smile, tracing her saucer slowly. "It was working with him down in the laboratory that brought us together. Watching him in his art, his passion—it exhilarated me. Assisting him is how I grew to admire him. To love him. Even if I was able to keep everything else between us, if I lost that . . . I don't know. It feels like losing what makes us who we are. And I don't want that."

Daphne scooted her chair closer and took Trinket's face in her hands. Gazing deeply into her eyes, she leaned her forehead against hers and smiled. Trinket wasn't sure what she was trying to say, but it reassured her nonetheless. She returned her friend's smile and gripped her wrist.

"Thank you, Daphne," she whispered.

Releasing her, Daphne downed the rest of her gin and let out a satisfied sigh. She then motioned to the door and cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm quite ready," Trinket said, pushing her teacup aside.

After paying for the subpar refreshments, they made their way back home. As they entered the house, Trinket's eyes went immediately to the laboratory door. She knew he was still down there. And his being there without her fed into her fears of losing him. She should be with him. Assisting him. Supporting him. And she should be down there for herself, too. The laboratory was where she was most alive. Where she was most herself. Working to improve the lives of others with the person she loved more than anyone else in the world was what she felt she was meant to do.

She couldn't lose that.

Daphne pulled her from her thoughts as she gently squeezed her shoulder. Trinket tore her gaze away from the laboratory door and met her friend's eyes. There was a knowing glimmer behind them. She nodded at the door and raised her eyebrows.

"I'll check in on him later," Trinket said, her heart pounding against her ribcage. "I have work to do. Besides, I think we both need a little time to cool down. I'm not quite over my frustration."

Rolling her eyes, Daphne headed back into the kitchen. With her gone, Trinket's gaze returned to the door. It hadn't been a complete lie. She was still irritated about the way Booker had spoken to her the previous night. But more than anything, it was fear keeping her from confronting him. Fear of starting another fight. Fear of pushing him away.

Fear of telling him the truth.

Perhaps it was because of her conversation with Daphne and speaking aloud her reservations about Benedict, but she felt as though she might tell Booker everything if she spoke to him right now. About her past. About her sins.