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

a smattering of surprise. I’ve forgotten I know how to speak.
“Kenji said you wanted to meet me,” is the only response I
offer.
“Kenji would be correct.” He takes his time breathing. He
takes his time shifting in his seat. He takes his time studying
my eyes, choosing his words, touching two fingers to his
lips. He seems to have dominated the concept of time.
Impatience is likely not a word in his vocabulary. “I’ve heard
. . . stories. About you.” Smiles. “I simply wanted to know if
they were true.”
“What have you heard?”
He smiles with teeth so white it looks like snow falling on
the chocolate valleys of his face. He opens his hands.
Studies them for a moment. Looks up. “You can kill a man
with nothing but your bare skin. You can crush five feet of
concrete with the palm of your hand.”
I’m climbing a mountain of air and my feet keep slipping. I
need to get a grip on something.
“Is it true?” he asks.
“Rumors are more likely to kill you than I am.”
He studies me for too long. “I’d like to show you
something,” he says after a moment.
“I want answers to my questions.” This has gone on too
long. I don’t want to be lulled into a false sense of security. I
don’t want to assume Adam and James are okay. I don’t
want to trust anyone until I have proof. I can’t pretend like
any of this is all right. Not yet. “I want to know that I’m
safe,” I tell him. “And I want to know that my friends are
safe. There was a ten-year-old boy with us when we arrived
and I want to see him. I need to make certain he is healthy
and unharmed. I won’t cooperate otherwise.”
His eyes inspect me a few moments longer. “Your loyalty is
refreshing,” he says, and he means it. “You will do well
here.”
“My friends—”
“Yes. Of course.” He’s on his feet. “Follow me.”