A Vault of Sins by Sarah Harian

a leaked feed proves their testimonies were true?
    This is just another example of a big government cover-up, folks. Disgusting.

9
    I must be dead.
    Death feels like sinking into the softest pillow, completely relaxed, maybe even a little drunk. I’m not hungry, I’m not thirsty, I’m not tired, I’m not anything.
    I don’t even feel guilty.
    I could get used to this. How silly I was to be so afraid of death before. I’m right beneath perfection; all I need now is a margarita and the hot sun. Maybe heaven offers complimentary drinks.
    Heaven? Who am I kidding?
    My eyes flutter open to white, clean light and soft blobs of color.
    “Evalyn.”
    The voice is unfamiliar.
    “Focus now.” Light and musical and happy. My vision sharpens. The groan escaping me belongs to some disgruntled prehistoric monster.
    “Shh, shh, you’re fine!” she coos. She’s young and pale with big eyes and freckles. But her hair. Maybe she’s an angel or a demon, a gatekeeper to the afterlife. That has to be it.
    “What the hell happened to your head?” I slur.
    A deep chuckling rumbles from across the room.
    “I said you couldn’t be the first thing she saw. Why didn’t you wear a hat or something, Piper?”
    Piper?
    The girl with the cotton-candy blue French braid rolls her eyes. She wears rubber gloves and fiddles with the IV stuffed into my arm.
    Lucidity slams down on me like a cold bucket of water. I’m definitely not dead. I regain enough composure over my body to roll my head toward the guy sitting in the windowsill of a wonderfully white-washed bedroom. Maybe in his thirties—he’s slouchy and skinny with narrow eyes and a long nose. He’s half-distracted by the sleek, black tablet in his hand.
    “Do something useful for once instead of sitting around and mocking me,” Piper says.
    “At your service, milady,” he drawls without looking up.
    “Check on the tracking devices and make sure that the firewall’s still active.”
    “Maliyah’s already on it. Gotta think deeper, Piper.”
    Piper groans like a thirteen-year-old being teased. “Wes!”
    “You rang?”
    “Just get out!”
    I can’t help but snort. The conversation is way funnier than it probably should be. I blame the drugs.
    “See, she likes me.”
    “Out, Wes!”
    Wes makes to go, but before he leaves the room, he swivels toward me. “You’re much cuter than your online personality.”
    I feel my eyes widen. Piper frowns, and when Wes leaves the room, she mutters, “Pig.”
    “That’s Rebel_W?” The words feel funny spilling from my mouth, but at least I can finally form them.
    Piper rolls her huge doll eyes. “If that’s what you want to call him. Such a dramatic username for such an obnoxious twat.” She crosses her legs and settles back in to taking my vitals, swaying back and forth in an antique rocking chair that matches the dresser against the wall. My eyes flit to the window, and I see the one thing that has the power to drive fear right back through me.
    “Oh balls.”
    “What’s the matter?” Piper asks, but before I can say anything, someone else slips into the room.
    The throbbing headache returns with full-force, nearly blinding me. After the cotton-candy hair and Rebel_W appearing, I know it has to be a dream, considering Casey makes an appearance in almost all of my dreams, but it doesn’t matter. My heart pumps rapidly at the sight of him, refueling my body with oxygen-filled blood. I could soar out of this bed.
    “Maliyah wants an update.”
    Piper smiles brightly and motions toward me. “Well, as you can see for yourself, we’re right on schedule.”
    Even with Piper’s hand gestures, Casey doesn’t glance at me. “Is that what you want me to tell her?”
    I try to ignore the pulse in my ears and stretch out my legs, but a hot, grinding fire shoots through my entire body.
    This isn’t a dream. Casey’s real. The disgust written all over his face is real too.
    Piper sighs. “Tell Maliyah she woke up literally