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

Chapter Thirty
“You have a house?” I’m too shocked for manners.
Adam laughs and pulls out of the field. The tank is
surprisingly fast, surprisingly swift and stealthy. The engine
has quieted to a soothing hum, and I wonder if that’s why
they switched their tanks from gas to electric. It’s certainly
less conspicuous this way. “Not exactly,” he answers. “But a
home of sorts. Yeah.”
I want to ask and don’t want to ask and need to ask and
never want to ask. I have to ask. I steel myself. “Your fathe
—”
“He’s been dead for a while now.” Adam’s not smiling
anymore. His voice is tight with something only I would
know how to place. Pain. Bitterness. Anger.
“Oh.”
We drive in silence, each of us absorbed in our own
thoughts. I don’t dare ask what became of his mother. I only
wonder how he turned out so well despite having such a
despicable father. And I wonder why he ever joined the
army if he hates it so much. Right now, I’m too shy to ask. I
don’t want to infringe on his emotional boundaries.
God knows I have a million of my own.
I peer out the window and strain my eyes to see what
we’re passing through, but I can’t make out much more than
the sad stretches of deserted land I’ve grown accustomed
to. There are no civilians where we are: we’re too far from
Reestablished settlements and civilian compounds. I notice
another tank patrolling the area not 100 feet away, but I
don’t think it sees us. Adam is driving without headlights,
presumably to draw as little attention to us as possible. I