Imposter by Chanda Stafford Read Free Book Online

inquisitive ears hear our conversations.” Her jaw tenses.
    I tilt my head and study her face. There’s something else there, under the surface. Something else that makes her so cautious, but I’ll never ask her what it is. I take a deep breath. “I’ll do my best.”
    “Not your best.” Eliot glares at me. “Do Socrates’s best. That’s the only thing that matters.”
    For the next thirty minutes, Eliot takes me on a whirlwind tour of my home. To the left of the dining room is the kitchen, the study, and a few random sitting rooms and studies. After that, we enter a large room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Enormous windows grace either side of a large desk, and the sunlight filters through what must be specially designed windows so the ancient books don’t disintegrate from ultraviolet damage.
    Eliot runs her fingers lightly over some of the book’s spines and dust floats away in her wake. She doesn’t speak, and it’s as if the room itself holds its breath, waiting for its rightful owner.
    “What is this place?” My voice is quiet, hesitant, and almost reverent. This room must mean a lot to Eliot.
    “It’s the library.” She walks up to a huge old desk and runs her fingers over the wood. “It was his favorite room in the whole damn house.” The last bit comes out as a whisper, her words barely registering over the silence.
    I close my eyes, imagining Socrates lowering himself into the leather chair behind the desk. On a rug right next to it, Ben lies in the sun, half-curled, facing us. His tail thumps twice when he sees Ellie, but he ignores me. He points his shiny black nose toward the door, waiting for Socrates to come home.
    I leave Eliot to her memories and walk around the room. There are more books here than I’ve ever seen in my life. Weird old bottles and antique trinkets also grace the shelves and perch on the small tables surrounding mismatched leather chairs. Eliot sinks into a black leather chair tucked in a dimly lit window nook and nods at the seat across from her. “Sit, please.”
    I do as she asks and rest my hands on my knees, unsure what to do with them. Eliot pats her knee. Ben pads over to her and then rests his head on her hand. His wise stare bores into hers with a sadness I can only ascribe to mourning.
    “He misses him, too, doesn’t he?”
    “Of course,” Eliot murmurs. “He was Soc’s best friend. He went everywhere with him.”
    “Why did Socrates have a service dog? I mean, I know he was sick and everything, but from what I learned in school, he always had one with him, even when he was younger.”
    “I don’t really know. Socrates never liked to talk about it. All I remember is that he got the first Ben right before the Immigration War.” She scratches the dog idly behind his ears. “From what I remember, he was somewhat of a scoundrel.” A wistful smile plays across her lips.
    My eyes widen. “You were a rebel?”
    She laughs. “How quickly you jump to that conclusion but don’t ask about Soc.”
    Heat rushes to my face. “I’m sorry. It’s just…”
    “He didn’t seem like the revolutionary type to you?”
    “Well, no. Not really.”
    “He was cautious. Reserved, even.”
    “I guess that’s why I was so surprised to find out he was sponsoring the Free America Bill.”
    “I’ve heard he was a lot more outgoing before we met, but something happened and…” She turns her gaze to Ben again and takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’re breathing new life into his memory. You’re the Socrates he used to be and wanted to fulfill his legacy. I need you to remember that tomorrow.”
    A cold chill flickers up my spine. “Why, what’s tomorrow?”
    Eliot brushes off her pants and flashes me a humorless smile. “Your first interview since the Exchange.”
    I swear I can feel my heart stop. “Interview?” My palms immediately become sweaty, and I feel a similar wetness beading on my forehead. “I can’t.