Ignoring the sudden, acute awareness of my tongue’s dryness, I argue, “I drank plenty.”
“Drink up.” Gem reappears with a mug in hand. The cracked ceramic thumps onto the table.
“Yes, Mother,” I jibe without thinking.
Gem’s face falls, and mine follows suit.
“By the shadows, Gem, I’m so sorry.”
Her frown breaks into a lopsided grin. “Gotcha!”
I flick the damp washcloth at Gem, and she ducks behind Taurance, who’s watching us with a halfhearted smile.
“Your sister is cruel,” I tease, but my smile falters as I take a better look at Taurance. Her green eyes glisten brighter than usual, which only happens when she’s on the brink of tears. The levity falls from my lips as the moment passes. “What’s wrong, Taur?”
She stands up from her chair, gliding over to her cot at the back of the cabin.
My gaze darts to Gem, lifting a brow in a silent question.
She shakes her head, then moves to follow her sister. “It was a joke, T.”
“It’s not that,” Taurance says, fetching a folded parchment from beneath her cot. Gem and I step in closer to get a better look while she unfolds the paper with shaky hands. “I found out earlier tonight, but I wanted to wait until we were all together.”
“Wait for what?” Gem asks, eying the parchment. “Is it from Ma?”
“No.” Taurance cradles the paper close to her chest.
I lower myself onto the cot beside her, rubbing circles on the small of her back. “Your mystery suitor, then?”
“No. It’s, um . . .” She blinks, sending two beads of tears rushing down her flushed cheeks.
Gem nudges her sandaled foot into her sister’s. “Come on, T. You’re scaring me.”
“I’m—” Taurance sniffles, then tries again. “I’m pregnant.”
Gem goes completely still at the barely audible confession.
My hand pauses on Taurance’s back. “What?”
“I’m pregnant,” she repeats, turning the paper around to reveal the official declaration of pregnancy signed off on by the Department of Midwifery. “I heard their heartbeat. A hundred sixty beats per minute.”
“Taur!” I wrap both arms around her shoulders. “This is good news, right?”
I may be childless by force—thanks to my defective body—and Gem by choice, but Taur’s longing to be a mother has only grown in the years since we first decided to room together.
A weighted smile stretches across Taurance’s face as she nods, glancing up at her twin who’s yet to budge an inch. “It is, but this means I won’t be able to go with you.”
I wrap my fingers around Taur’s, attention drifting to the satchels leaning against the kitchen cupboard. Over the past few nights, we’ve packed a few bags of hazelnuts, a loaf of sourdough, an old wine bottle refilled with water, and a few other essentials in case my plan of wooing the widower fell through.
“What if we stay? Take our chances. We’ve made it this far without our names being called. You’re ineligible now, Taur. And Gem, this is only your sixth year of eligibility. Maybe they won’t?—”
“Ten,” Gem says, tone thick. “This is yourtenthyear of eligibility, Orelle. If you don’t leave today, you will be drafted.”
Few who make it into the double digits escape the Hunt. Our entries double with every year of eligibility, and the system heavily skews towards candidates who’ve aged past their twenties. It’s a bitter truth we usually refrain from acknowledging aloud.
My voice breaks as I counter, “You don’t know that.”
A muscle flexes in Gem’s jaw. “We have to leave.”
