Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

Dear God.
He’s okay.
“Jenkins had the pleasure of meeting Juliette just last
night,” he continues. The tension among the men is very
nearly tangible. No one, it seems, knows where this speech
is headed. And no one, it seems, hasn’t already heard
Jenkins’ story. My story. “I hope you’ll all greet her with the
same sort of kindness,” Warner adds, his lips laughing
without a sound. “She will be with us for some time, and will
be a very valuable asset to our efforts. The Reestablishment
welcomes her. I welcome her. You should welcome her.”
The soldiers drop their fists all at once, all at exactly the
same time.
They shift as one, 5 steps backward, 5 steps forward, 5
steps standing in place. They raise their left arms high and
curl their fingers into a fist.
And fall on one knee.
I run to the edge, desperate to get a closer look at such a
strangely choreographed routine. I’ve never seen anything
like it.
Warner makes them stay like that, bent like that, fists
raised in the air like that. He doesn’t speak for at least 30
seconds. And then he does.
“Good.”
The soldiers rise and rest their right fists on their chests
again.
“The second matter at hand is even more pleasant than
the first,” Warner continues, though he seems to take no
pleasure in saying it. His eyes are sharpening over the
soldiers below, shards of emerald flickering like green
flames over their bodies. “Delalieu has a report for us.”
He spends an eternity simply staring at the soldiers, letting
his few words marinate in their minds. Letting their own
imaginations drive them insane. Letting the guilty among
them tremble in anguish.
Warner says nothing for so long.