The Institute (Falling Ash Chronicles #1) Read Free Page B

me looking like I’d just run a marathon, with my hair sticking to my sweaty temples.
    I walked up the stairs and pushed open the door to my bedroom and slipped in, closing the door quietly behind me. I kicked off my shoes and tugged off my jacket and gloves, relieved to be able to shed my protective layers. My room had been wiped when I came, leaving everything safe for me to touch. Since I couldn’t see my own history, it had turned into my sanctuary. It was the only place I wasn’t overwhelmed by other memories.
    My room, like everything else in this place, was utilitarian and functional. The only furniture was the metal bed frame with a thin mattress covered by bleached white sheets and a generic wood nightstand and dresser. My walls were the same calming grey as the rest of the Institute, broken up only by the single window that looked out on the helipad. Beyond that I could see the cement wall that separated us from society. I didn’t know if they were trying to keep us in or keep others out.
    Everything I owned was provided by the Institute. I knew from glances into other rooms that most students brought things from home, decorating their environment so that they felt more connected to their past. I didn’t have any such mementos. Everything that marked my life before the Institute had been burned in the fire that killed my parents. The only thing I had left as a reminder was the single picture I had sitting on my nightstand.
    I flopped back on my bed, bouncing once. The metal springs squeaked, objecting to my weight. I reached over to the picture, tilting it down so that I could see it with my head propped on my palm. There was me as a little girl, chubby faced and bright eyed. Mom knelt on one side, her arms wrapped around me as she beamed towards the camera. Dad knelt on the other side, one arm stretched around us both, his other hand resting protectively on my forearm. He smiled with a quiet dignity and warmth.
    Barely a week later I’d lost them both. The Rogues had invaded our home, shooting my parents and setting our house ablaze. According to the Rogues, my parents were traitors, betraying their cause by refusing to pick their side. My parents wanted to stay neutral in the war between the Rogues and the Institute.
    I was meant to have been the final victim in their attack, but I was pulled from the flames by one of the teams at the Institute that had been sent too late to protect us. The weeks after my parents died were a blur. I spent several days in a hospital, recovering from smoke inhalation and burns to my hands. I’d been released the day of my parents funeral. I remembered dressing in black, staring down as their caskets were lowered into the broken earth. Meredith had been there, resting her hand on my shoulder in an empty gesture of comfort. She had come to take me to the Institute. I had no other family to speak of, or at least if I did, no one had stepped forward to claim me.
    My first few weeks at the Institute were spent in the Infirmary, recovering from my injuries. After that I’d been set up in the classes, even though I was years too young. I suspected it was more to keep me out of trouble. No one knew how to deal with a grieving child with haunted eyes. Even though I didn’t understand half of it, I had soaked it in. It was never enough. I needed to know everything that could help in my war against the Rogues.
    I felt exhaustion seeping into my bones, my eyelids growing heavy. I sighed, burrowing my face into my arms. One day I would find the people that killed my parents. One day I would avenge them. I swore it. That was my last thought before exhaustion dragged me under.

Chapter 3
    Fire. Everywhere.
    I stumbled through the house, opening one door after another. The cavernous hall yawned before me, seeming to grow longer the further I ran. So many doors, all of them opening to empty, fire filled rooms. I screamed, my voice hoarse from the effects of the smoke filled air. Mama was