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

release but his reassurances in my ear. Sleep is the only
thing I look forward to these days. I can hardly remember
why I used to scream.
Things are getting too comfortable and I’m beginning to
panic.
“Put these on,” Warner says to me.
Breakfast in the blue room has become routine. I eat and
don’t ask where the food comes from, whether or not the
workers are being paid for what they do, how this building
manages to sustain so many lives, pump so much water, or
use so much electricity. I bide my time now. I cooperate.
Warner hasn’t asked me to touch him again, and I don’t
offer.
“What are they for?” I eye the small pieces of fabric in his
hands and feel a nervous twinge in my gut.
He smiles a slow, sneaky smile. “An aptitude test.” He
grabs my wrist and places the bundle in my hand. “I’ll turn
around, just this once.”
I’m almost too nervous to be disgusted by him.
My hands shake as I change into the outfit that turns out
to be a tiny tank top and tinier shorts. I’m practically naked.
I’m practically convulsing in fear of what this might mean. I
clear my throat just the tiniest bit and Warner spins around.
He takes too long to speak; his eyes are busy traveling the
road map of my body. I want to rip up the carpet and sew it
to my skin. He smiles and offers me his hand.
I’m granite and limestone and marbled glass. I don’t move.
He drops his hand. He cocks his head. “Follow me.”
Warner opens the door. Adam is standing outside. He’s
gotten so good at masking his emotions that I hardly
register the look of shock that shifts in and out of his
features. Nothing but the strain in his forehead, the tension
in his temples, gives him away. He knows something’s not
right. He actually turns his neck to take in my appearance.
He blinks. “Sir?”