This time when we made love, I didn’t even try to hold the words in.
Forty-One
After having sex the second time, Marc told me everything that had happened during my seclusion. The other women and girls had arrived and were settled in. The teens had school and were closely chaperoned, but the other women were being integrated into the general population. I took it as a sign that they’d soon be joining the program but didn’t bring it up. There was no point in dwelling on something I couldn’t change.
Marc left well before dawn, kissing me on the forehead after getting dressed, then slipping silently from the room. I tried to go back to sleep, but I was too happy. Too in love. Too high on life. Which was insane, considering the state of things
Hilary was wearing a strange expression when she arrived the next morning.
“Are you having difficulty sleeping, Miss Murphy?” she asked as she set my breakfast tray on the table.
I thought about Marc being in my bed most of the night, of making love, of talking for hours until he finally slipped from my room. There had been very little sleep, but I wasn’t sure why she was asking. My sleep pattern had been messed up since I got here.
“The usual,” I said elusively.
“It’s just that I noticed you were up most of the night,” Hilary replied. “What’s more, there were a couple times when your wristband recorded a significant spike in your heart rate.This has happened a few other times recently, but those were all during your free time, and I just assumed you were working out. Since it happened in the middle of the night, however, it’s a little concerning.”
Shit. I hadn’t thought about my heart rate changing during sex or that my wristband would report the anomaly to Hilary, but I should have. It reported everything else to her, after all.
Thankfully, she’d given me the perfect lie.
“I was working out,” I told her. “I know it’s strange to do it in the middle of the night, but when I can’t sleep, I feel like it helps.”
Hilary’s frown deepened. “I imagine that would wake you up more, but since you know what’s best for your body, I’ll let it go. Although, if you continue the practice after getting pregnant, I will want to talk to the doctor about it. Just to make sure it’s not going to cause the fetus any stress.”
Because the fetus was the most important thing.
“I’ll try not to overdo it,” I assured her.
“Good, good.” Hilary was already moving to the door. “I’ll see you at lunchtime, Miss Murphy.”
The rest of my confinement was relatively uneventful. Hilary brought my meals, she talked at me while I ignored her, then left me alone. As predicted, she took the paper and pen as soon as she realized she’d left it, but it didn’t matter. I’d already put my thoughts to paper, and there was nothing she could do to change that.
Marc came to my room in the middle of the night, left again before dawn, and the next morning, I was allowed to return to the general population. I was thrilled, and not just because I’d been bored out of my mind in my room, but because I was excited to check on Bette and Warren.
Her room was the first place I headed. I knocked, waited, looked around. It was morning, and people were heading to breakfast and the hall was filled with women. Some pregnant, some not. Some smiling, some looking like they were heading to a firing squad. All of them, though, prisoners.
God, I hated this place.
The lock clicked and I turned, smiling in anticipation. Itmelted away when the door opened and an unfamiliar twentyish woman with short, brown hair came into view.
“Can I help you?” she asked before I could get over my shock.
I looked past her, took in the lack of baby items in the room, and shook my head. What the hell was going on?
“Where’s Bette?” I asked when I was once again looking at the stranger.
“I don’t know who that is.”
“She’s my friend. This is her room. She just had a baby.”
“Sorry,” the woman said, giving a little shrug. “I just got here two days ago and was assigned this room. It was empty.”
Empty? Meaning Bette was gone. But to where? Home? No way. No way would these people let her go home and potentially expose both her and her newborn baby to the virus. But what was the other explanation? What could have happened to her?
“Are you okay?” the woman asked.
I took a step back, shaking my head, unable to form words. I had to find out what happened to Bette. I had to know.
