I didn’t turn. I didn’t breathe too loudly. I kept my eyes fixed on the clean tiles, the way they taught me. The way they carved into me.
Bootsteps crossed the threshold, slow, and deliberate. The kind that told me the handler wasn’t in any hurry. The kind that meant he was here to inspect, to judge, to find the thing I’d missed even if there wasn’t one.
A shadow stretched across the floor beside me. “Step back.” His voice was flat, emotionless, the same tone they all used.
I obeyed immediately, standing and taking a step back. My knees ached from being on them so long, but I held in my grimace.
He crouched to inspect the floor, and I held my breath. My heart thudded so hard it felt like it might shake my whole chest, and I prayed he couldn’t hear it.
A long moment passed. Then another. Finally, he stood. “Acceptable.”
Relief washed through me so quickly it almost made me dizzy.
He didn’t pause before giving the next order. “Get yourself clean up. Pictures are being taken soon, and your presence is required in the gym in twenty minutes.”
My breath hitched but I kept my face blank the way they expected. Pictures. Gym. Twenty minutes.
I dipped my chin in a tiny nod and stepped back from the bucket. My hands were still damp, streaked with pinkish water, but I didn’t wipe them on my pants.
The handler didn’t wait to see if I followed the order. He turned and walked out, leaving the door open behind him like he already knew I’d obey.
I did. Even though I’d rather do anything but obey these handlers.
What I wanted was to go home. I wanted to see Mama. I wanted her to wrap her arms around me and never let me go. Even though she was no longer alive.
If I had known…If I hadn’t been a stupid kid…. I’d still be with her. I’d still be where I was always meant to be.
My feet automatically moved down the hallway. The lights overhead buzzed faintly, too bright and too cold. The air smelt like a disinfectant and something sharper underneath it. I kept my eyes on the floor, watching the pattern of the tiles pass beneath me.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
The door was propped open, steam curling faintly from inside. A few other Omegas were already there, silent as ghosts, washing up under the watchful eyes of a handler who leaned against a wall.
I slipped quietly, keeping distance like the rules demanded. No speaking. No looking. Not touching. No moving wrong.
This was the main bathroom that Omegas were to use during the day, the one that we had to be watched in. I hatedusing this one. Hated the way the handler’s eyes sometimes watched us too closely. I hated the words they said that made my skin crawl.
I preferred the one upstairs that was connected to my bedroom. It was small, and left very little room to do anything, but at least I had some sort of privacy there.
I stepped up to an empty sink and turned the water on with careful fingers. The cold hit my skin and I scrubbed fast, trying to get the last traces of the dirty water off of me. My reflection in the metal faucet was warped and tiny, but even that felt too much eye contact, so I looked away.
Sometimes, I forget what I look like. It was better that way. Easier to blend in with the others.
I didn’t stand out here, at least physically speaking. I was just…here. I existed. I obeyed whatever rules the handlers demanded of me.
I did what was ordered.
From the start of each day to the time, I went to bed. Every moment of my day was scheduled in. Breakfast, school, and any otheractivitiesthat I was to learn packed my days.
Joy, joy,I thought, huffing a breath through my nose.What a great freaking life I got here.
A sharp throat clearing from across the room snapped my spine straight. I shut off the water immediately, hands going still at my sides before I dared to reach for a towel.
Unease tightened my chest as I dried my fingers. The handler’s gaze was fixed on me like he was waiting for me to slip, to break a rule I didn’t even know existed yet.
Keeping my head bowed, eyes lifted just enough to see the floor in front of me, I stepped out of the bathroom without a sound.
The hallway felt colder the moment I stepped out, like the air itself knew where I was supposed to go next. My hands werestill slightly damp, but I kept them at my sides, fingers straight, posture perfect.
