“Is this a curfew thing or what?” Malika muttered.
Bette glanced at me like she thought I might have more information. I didn’t, but I also didn’t have a problem telling her my theory about what was going on.
“My guess? Yes. I don’t know if we’ll be expected to adhere to one every night, but they obviously want to make sure they know where we are right now.”
Malika blew out an irritated breath. “And what’s this bullshit about them not letting us call home? I mean, that’s messed up. Am I right?”
It wasn’t until she said it that I realized I didn’t even know if she had family. She hadn’t exactly been chatty during group, and even if she had, it wasn’t like Destiny had encouraged us to share things about our personal lives. She’d only wanted to talk about the program.
“Who did you leave behind?” I asked Malika.
“Boyfriend.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ve been together for years, and he still hasn’t put a ring on it, but I don’t know if I can really blame him for that. This Fertility Act bullshit has been hell on our relationship. I mean, it was bad enough before I was actually in the program, but now that we have the added stress of the Department of Fertility breathing down my neck, it’s taken a toll.”
“You two didn’t want to have a baby together?” Bette asked as we reached the stairs.
Malika snorted. “Maybe one day, but I want to do it on my terms. I don’t need the government telling me when it’s time for me to be a mom. That’s bullshit.”
“Seriously,” I muttered, mostly to myself.
When we reached the third floor, I paused to see if Malika would continue up since I had no idea which room she’d been assigned. She didn’t.
“What about you?” She asked as the women around us reached their rooms and the crowd began to thin. “I mean, I know Miss Southern Princess has a husband, but I don’t know a damn thing about you. You were pretty tightlipped during our group sessions.”
Bette flushed at the other woman’s comment, but I didn’t get the impression Malika was being a bitch. And honestly, the nickname fit.
“I didn’t really feel the need to spill my private life,” I told her.
“Can’t blame you for that.”
Malika stopped outside room 343, and I stopped as well. Bette continued, walking fast like she wanted to put space between herself and the other woman, who was currently standing with her arms crossed, staring at me like she was waiting for a response.
“No husband and no living family.”
“Same story, different person,” Malika grumbled.
“Yeah.” I glanced down the hall to find Bette waiting outside her door, then looked back at Malika. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“And the next day and the next day.” Malika gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “It’s going to feel like fuckingGroundhog Dayin this place.”
I’d seen the movie she was referring to once but had totally forgotten about it, although I couldn’t say her assessment was that far off. We didn’t have jobs, and it wasn’t like we were going to be granted day trips or anything, which meant life was about to get pretty mundane for those of us in the program. Aside from things like daily temperature checks, doctors’ visits, and the occasional forced insemination, that was.
“Goodnight,” I said, taking a step back.
Malika gave a curt nod before heading into her room.
The hall was mostly clear by the time I caught up with Bette.
“I’m not sure I like her,” my friend said, hugging herself protectively.
“She just tells it like it is.”
Bette’s eyebrows rose. “SouthernPrincess?”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” I nudged her with my elbow. “I mean, you have to admit that before you married your husband, you would have thought anyone in your financial situation was a princess of sorts.”
She gave a noncommittal shrug, but her expression said I was right.
“Well, anyway, I don’t think – ”
