Gem scoots to the edge of her cot. “You’re not about to tell us you’re pregnant, too. Are you?”
“Gem,”Taurance chides, tossing the loaf of bread at her twin. But her aim is off, and the sourdough lands on the floor instead, joining the dust bunnies beneath Gem’s bed. “You can’t make jokes about that.”
“Sorry for trying to lighten the mood,” Gem says while using her feet to slide the loaf back out and punt it at Taur, who huffs.
“Since when is mocking infertility a mood lightener?”
Gem’s jade eyes meet mine, and she shrinks into herself.
I offer her a smile before hunching over to scoop up the misshapen loaf covered in a layer of grime. “Don’t worry about it. What you two should both be sorry about is ruining my sourdough.”
I’ve had a decade to come to terms with my infertility. Sure, the echoes of my loss of choice sting every once in a while, especiallywhen I catch glimpses of the tiny humans who share the midnight blue eyes of the man whose surname I still bear. But I’ve made peace with knowing there are other ways to indulge my nurturing instincts—instincts I may no longer have once the mutation spreads.
“My bad.” Gem brushes a hand through her close-cropped hair, flinching when her fingers ruffle the edge of the compression cloth.
Taurance’s crossed knees twitch, and I know she’s fighting the urge to check on Gem’s bandage again. Sensing my attention, Taurance turns back to me, her furrowed brows relaxing as her bouncing legs go still.
“Sorry. You were saying?”
I fidget with the black wool wrapped around my right arm, slowly loosening it.
“You know how that man showed up to help me out of the trench?” They both nod, and I continue, “A few minutes before that, right after the ground stopped shaking, I tried to lift myself up to get to Gem. But there was this bright light. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. So I felt around the ledge, but something . . . hot touched my hand.”
Chest heaving, I begin to unravel the wrap.
“What do you mean, something hot?” Gem rises from her cot to stand at my side, her knuckles turning white like she’s itching to bury them into the stranger’s face. “Was it that guy? Did he try to hurt you?”
I shake my head, but the single tear trailing down my face does nothing to ease their concerns, so I reiterate, “No. He did nothing but help.”
Taur leans forward to rest a palm on my shoulder. “Was there someone else there, then?”
“No,” I repeat. “Part of the ceiling split open during the quake.”
Taurance’s grip on my shoulder tightens, and I know she’s catching on.
My voice falters. “And my hand?—”
“Orelle.” Gem’s spine straightens. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
I can’t. The words are too big to make it through my constricted throat. So, I give a final tug on the wool, letting the evidence speak for me.
The whites of Gem’s eyes briefly widen before constricting to a grimace. She grabs at my wrist before I can warn her to not touch me. Logically, I know the sun mutation isn’t contagious, but I can’t bear to see the condemning glow of my veins against her skin, or the hurt on her face once she realizes I’m endangering them both by being here. So I flinch, twisting my head away like a coward.
Gem grunts as she tosses my hand aside. “And T thinksmyjokes are bad. Why would you mess with us like that? You genuinely had me convinced you’d been exposed.”
“I—Iwas,” I say, twisting back around and splaying open my fingers.
But my olive skin is as dull and lifeless as usual, revealing nothing abnormal lurking beneath it. Gone is the unnatural golden light that illuminated my veins.
As soon as they allow the sun to mark their veins, they lose their humanity. Forever.
My mother made it clear there’s no going back for a human who’s been marked by the sun. Their loss of humanity is inevitable.
So why does my hand look and feel normal again?
“I swear my hand was glowing a few hours ago.” I rotate my wrist and blink forcefully, sure I’m not seeing correctly. Either the mutation has gone dormant, or there are more nuances to sun exposure than we’ve been led to believe.
Taurance grabs my cheeks, rotating my neck from side to side.
