UNBREATHABLE by Hafsah Laziaf Read Free Book Online

Julian glances at Slate and I get the sense that he knows why.
    Slate shakes his head and continues walking, as if moving forward will rid us of our pasts. “It’s not. You have to understand, there are some things worse than death.”
    I stare at him, but he continues staring ahead as if he doesn’t notice me.
    “Then my mother, who is she?” I ask.
    He bristles, but doesn’t stop walking. His hand is on the Tower door when he finally answers me. “She’s gone.”
    I can tell he’s lying. And if I can tell he is lying now, whatever he said before was true.
    Maybe he really is my father.
    Maybe I’m not truly alone.
     

 
    The inside of the Tower is nothing like the outside. Everything is blinding white, from the floors to the walls, and surprisingly empty. I expected to see soldiers roaming the halls, to hear doors slamming and voices echoing.
    The same shimmering ten-pointed star emblazoned on the Chamber’s wall is here too, ingrained in the white floor. It’s white too, and hard to see unless you really look. I wonder what it means, but I don’t feel like asking. There are more important things to worry about.
    Like my father being alive, and me being the only one of my kind.
    Slate leads me to a room with nothing but a shaggy brown rug thrown in its center. My fingers itch to straighten it, to align the edges with those of the room’s, but I clasp my hands together when he turns to me.
    “I’ll be back soon. This is pretty much the only room where you’ll be left alone,” he says with an apologetic smile and closes the door behind him.
    I sink to the ground. The shag of the carpet brushes against the skin of my ankles that peek from beneath my pants.
    I’m in the Tower, the last place I ever expected to be. Julian is alive. The man who I thought was my father could be my uncle. The soldier who killed the man I lived with for seventeen years could be my father. A shuddering breath escapes my lips.
    I peel the mask off my face and rub at the spot where it itched against my skin, inhaling the sweet air. Oxygen doesn’t fuel the Tower.
    The air is a reminder: I’m half-human, half-Jute. Translation: not human, not Jute.
    I am nothing. I belong nowhere. My lips part in a silent cry. My eyes burn.
    The door opens and I quickly wipe my eyes and press the mask back on. But it isn’t Slate with his sympathetic gray eyes. It’s Julian. The only three buttons at the top of his shirt are unbuttoned, his chin shadowing a v-shaped portion of his neck. He sits down and doesn’t speak.
    “Are you like me? Half-human, half-Jute?” I break the silence first. He isn’t wearing a mask. I know Slate said otherwise, but I want to hear the answer from him.
    “Yes and no.” He sounds distant, like he’d rather talk about anything but this.
    “There can’t be a yes and no,” I pause and my brow furrows, “we must be the same.
    He sighs and clenches his jaw.
    “We're similar, but not the same. Jute women are stronger than men. Their genetics are different. Your mother is Jute, mine was human.”
    “Oh,” is all I say, because I don’t understand why that makes us different. His eyes soften at my voice.
    “You’re supposed to come with me.”
    “Where?” I ask, standing. A part of me just wants to hear his voice, the softness of it, the stillness. I trust him, I realize. He’s saved me twice, and I have to believe that means he will never hurt me.
    “You'll see.”
    I follow him down the hall. His shirt clings to his shoulders and he walks almost soundlessly, despite the boots hidden beneath his dark pants. When he opens a door, a smell hits me, tangy and acidic. Like blood.
    But when the light flickers on, I don’t see blood. I see metal. Weapons of every shape, size and lethality line the walls. I step inside and turn a full circle. Weapons to my right and left. Targets straight ahead. Carpet across the floor.
    “Metal isn’t scarce, is it?” I say dryly.
    He shakes his head, but doesn’t say