UNBREATHABLE by Hafsah Laziaf Page A

Jute have a ship. And the only way to get it is by force.
    I shake away the thoughts plaguing my conscience and follow her. This time, I keep my eyes peeled for Jute. The sooner we get out of the Tower, the better. It doesn’t help that my room was on a higher floor.
    “It's too quiet,” Dena says after a moment. She narrows her eyes at me and I have to pause, because she rarely ever looks me in the eye. “Run.”
    I don’t need to be told twice. We run side by side down the hall, our boots squeaking on the glistening floor. We run as if we’re a team, when really, I’m sure Dena would kill me herself if she could.
    I skid to a stop, my boots squealing before I slam into the person standing in my path. My hand instinctively tightens around a dagger. But Dena smirks and tosses her head, so her hair falls perfectly over her right eye.
    I recognize Julian right away. He turns away from his companion to face me, his eyes wide in surprise. Dena crosses her arms.
    “Dena, Lissa, what are you doing here?” There’s a nervous jerk to his words.
    “What-” I start, but words fail me.
    Because past Julian, is a man not much older than me. He’s dark-haired, a black knee-length coat swathing his figure, with skin a pale contrast to his clothes. His lips twist into an arrogant, amused smirk.
    Rowan. The Jute whose voice was so much like Julian's. He looked familiar because he is familiar.
    When I meet his eyes, I can't stop my lips from parting.
    Brilliant, beautiful, shimmering blue.
    He’s an exact replica, a slightly darker replica, of Julian.
    My heart hammers in my chest. My gaze flickers to Julian. He reads my eyes as easily as I can read the helplessness in his. And before I have a chance to react, he dives. His body crashes against mine.
    And the wall swallows us whole.
     
     
    I realize two things when the impact of my fall on the soft carpet racks my bones.
    One. The Tower only seemed to have a solid post in its center, marked with vertical lines. Every vertical line is actually an opening to this round room, so that the room is surrounded by doors. Doors that are hidden, keeping the room hidden and safe. In the event of an escape, like now, one can simply disappear into the wall.
    Two. Julian's full weight is on me. His right knee is between my legs, his left is beside my thigh. His arms are around my stomach. My body is on fire.
    If freedom had a scent, it would be his. It reminds me of my nights on the hill, my run in the crophouses.
    His ragged breath tickles my neck and I meet his eyes, struggling not to get lost in the depthless blue.
    In this moment, nothing exists but him. Us. I hold his gaze, and through the edge of my eyes, I see his tongue slide across his lower lip. I don't look. I don't let my eyes falls to his lips because I'm afraid of the quiver that will slide across my own.
    He exhales and moves away, quickly slamming his fist against a flat button on the wall, which I’m guessing will lock the door. The buzzing in my body fades to a faint hum. But I tremble, everything else temporarily forgotten as I yearn for his touch. He must have felt the same way.
    He must have.
    He runs his fingers through his hair and clenches his jaw.
    I sit up and cross my legs as the anger rushes back. I trusted him with everything. Yet he couldn’t trust me enough to tell me?
    “Who's Rowan?”
    He knows I saw the resemblance between them.
    “I-I,” he begins to say, and stops himself. He runs his hands down his face and his lips press into one line. “My brother.”
    Brother. Confusion replaces my anger.
    I can only associate Rowan with evil. But Julian, despite his dark looks and rare smiles, I know he’s good inside.
    He’s quiet, waiting for my reaction, but when I don’t speak, he does. “He says he’s here for the body, but he rarely comes.”
    I stand because the anger pumping through my veins will make me say something I’ll regret. He rises to his feet just as fast.
    “Why are you changing the