Those were the expectations President Patterson put in place when he took charge, and although President Vincent promised more comfort and pleasure from his new technology when he came to power nine years ago, nothing significant has changed.
I could run away. Some people do. But without resources, how would I survive?
Mason stares at me for a few moments, breathing heavily. “I know there aren’t many options, but isn’t there one that might be better thanthis?”
I don’t have time to reply before Aria and Lorraine come bursting into the kitchen with exaggerated thanks for Mason’s help with the dishes and remonstrances about how I shouldn’t let a guest do my work.
I ignore them, slipping around all three of them so I can clean off the dining table.
When I straighten up and turn around, Lorraine is directly in front of me.
I see what’s about to happen on her face before it happens.
She slaps me hard across my right cheek. It hurts—both the stinging of my skin and the impact in my head.
“Don’t you dare flirt with Aria’s man again,” she hisses at me.
Mason steps out from around Aria, who was blocking his exit from the kitchen. His eyes move from me to Lorraine and back again. Something wordless darkens on his face.
I duck my head and rub my cheek and get out of the dining room before I start crying again.
After dark, when Lorraine and Aria have retired to their bedrooms, I slip outside and hurry to the alley where the stray dog was hanging out yesterday. I have some gristle and trimmed fat from the steaks. Plus a slice of good meat I saved for him on purpose.
The stray isn’t there. I look up and down the alley. And then down a couple more streets.
No dog.
More upset than I should be, I keep looking for as long as I dare. If I’m caught outside after curfew, I’ll get in trouble with the village administrator, a smarmy man in his fifties who has always given me the creeps.
Finally I’m forced to give up. I offer the scraps to the butcher’s dog instead. He’s been eyeing me hopefully from his doorstep.
As I return, I see myself in the reflection from thestreetlights in a window. My right cheek is darker than the left.
I wonder if I’ll actually have a bruise.
It still hurts. It’s not the first time Lorraine has struck me, although it’s only happened occasionally. But this feels worse for some reason.
Like it’s the final straw.
Mason asked earlier why I don’t leave. He thought there might be something out there better for me than this.
And he’s right.
There’s nothing keeping me here any longer. Nothing except bleak resignation and fear.
I’ve got that jewelry hidden away. If I go to the Capitol and visit Annabelle, maybe she can help me sell or trade it. Or I can use it to bribe a city official. Maybe they can get me some sort of job.
Any job would be better than this.
If I live in the Capitol, at least I can see Annabelle regularly. And no longer be at the mercy of Lorraine and Aria.
By the time I’ve changed into my nightgown and climbed under the covers of my cot, I’ve decided.
I can’t leave the village at night. And if I try to sneak away during the day, Lorraine and Aria might catch me if they aren’t suitably distracted.
I’ll wait until Monday. Market day. They’ll be at the stall all day. I can pretend to go out scavenging for trinkets.
But I can run away instead.
