“It’s okay,” she said to herself. “You’ll be fine. You’ll figure something out.”
But there was nothing to do now but win the Running.
With shaking fingers, she tore open the envelope.
The time has come!
Time to show me attribute number one.
You have five hours to prove your VERSATILITY.
Demonstrate your adaptiveness, resourcefulness, and not-so-humble utility.
*You may use whatever it takes to pass the challenge.
She had five hours to prove she was versatile. To show she could be resourceful. How in the world would she do that?
She chewed on her cheek and sank onto her bed.
Something clattered onto the floorboard.
Esmeralda leaned down and scooped up the tin box she’d taken from Ignacio’s pocket. For the first time since their scuffle, she truly looked at the box. The label was no longer there, but she could tell by its size and curvature, it had once been used to hold lemon mints. Ignacio’s favorite.
She ran her thumb over the smooth metal and turned the box around. Her brows rose. She hadn’t noticed there were letters scratched into the back.D+P.
“Dovie and Pigeon,” she whispered.
The bells clanged loudly from the direction of the meal tent. Her stomach growled on instinct.
Rising to her feet, Esmeralda tucked the box under her pillow and straightened her shoulders. She’d force herself to eat. She’d put on her bravest face. Then she’d get to work trying to figure out how in the hell she could prove her worth to the man who now held her life in his hands.
5th of January, 1915. D+P: Age 11
Dovie. What were your parents like before…well…you know…before you came here?
They were only ever kind if they needed something of me. One time, they wanted to steal jewels from a nobleman’s caravan. I was so scared because I would have had to hold on to the axle under the carriage for an entire mile before I could slip inside. But my parents promised me they’d take me to the boardwalk if I was a good girl, so I did it.
I think they forgot that promise, though.
How old were you?
Six.
I’m sorry.
I’ve never been to the boardwalk either. Maybe we could go together someday.
I’d like that.
I know what my father would say about your past. “Hardship was created to build character.”
I can hear his voice now in my head. I shiver at the mere thought.
What was your mother like?
She was magic. She used to sit with me and tell me all sorts of stories until I fell asleep.
What were they about?
