“So will you go back to hunting in Spokane, or stay here?” my mom wondered aloud at dinner. I’d told her all about Maz and her lies, but also that I did like my job of protecting the humans and that I wanted to eventually continue to do that.
“I dunno. I’d love to have my own hunter guild or something,” I told her honestly.
“Ohhhh, hunter guild. Cool name.” Liv shoved a piece of potato into her mouth and I chuckled.
“I want to be a hunter!” Maple said, gripping her butterknife like it was a stake.
“No,” my mom and I both said at the same time, and then the entire table erupted into laughter. Well, everyone but Maple.
“You suck.” She crossed her arms and glared at us both.
Somehow, I thought the teenage drama and angst would pass over her since she was raised without TV or any pop culture references, but I was wrong. She was as feisty as ever.
“It’s dangerous. Maybe when you’re older,” I amended.
My mom cut me a playful glare. “Or maybenever. I can’t have both of my babies risking their life every day.”
My babies.
My mom did that a lot. She just threw endearing words and pet names out there like she had already accepted me and loved me and time hadn’t passed between us. It was the best damn feeling in the world. But I knew it sliced a hole into Liv’s heart. Liv’s entire body tensed when my mom did that stuff; her eyes grew vacant. We’d both grown up together as orphans. We had no lovey-dovey mom, just a strong mentor like Maz, who turned out to be a psycho. I knew Liv was seeking that connection that I now had with my mom and I felt awful about it.
Reaching out, I squeezed Liv’s hand and a single tear rolled down her cheek. The table quieted and my mom leaned over to Maple. “Honey, go watch some TV for a bit, okay?”
Maple nodded, all too eager to watch her new favorite device, and left the table.
“I’m fine.” Liv waved my hand off and shoved a spoonful of rice into her mouth, more tears streaming down her face.
My mom stood, walked over to Liv’s side of the table and pulled the spoon out of her hand, placing it on her plate.
“Look at me,” my mom ordered her. I was shocked at the strength left in a woman who had been beaten into submission for so long.
Liv looked up at my mom, who dropped to her knees before my bestie. Tears streamed down Liv’s face as she could no longer hold her feelings in.
“I want to tell you a story.” My mom smiled. “I was at your birth.”
Liv stilled, her mouth popping open. She wiped her tears quickly, perking up.
“I was a new mother myself, but I’d been selected to become a midwife at the encampment, so I was to learn from your mother’s delivery as part of my training.”
I leaned closer to Liv, wanting to hear every word of this story as well.
“Most of us were born into the encampment for generations. My mother was a breeder, and her mother, and so on. When we go through menopause, if we are not of use in another way … we’re disposed of.”
My heart squeezed. She’d lived in slavery her entire life? I couldn’t conceive of it.
“Your mother, Genevieve, was not born into the camp,” my mom said. “She was stolen. Brought in from the human world. She taught us many things about the outside world. She was a camp favorite.” I could see the tears welling in my own mother’s eyes as she went down memory lane.
Liv reached out and grasped my mom’s hand.
“Her birth was long and laborious, but when I set you in her arms, something about her changed in that moment. It changes for all of us…” She smiled at me. “But with her, she didn’t have the resignation we all have, knowing we will be forced to give our children up.” My mom’s voice cracked as she looked at me for a moment. “A fire was lit under your mother that day. I saw the moment it happened. It was the moment she looked at you. She intended to get out with you and raise you herself.”
Liv burst into sobs then, her head hanging forward. My mom reached out and pulled Liv in for a hug and the two of them held each other for a long few moments. Finally, Liv pulled back and wiped her eyes. “What happened?”
My mom sighed. “Are you sure you want to hear the rest?”
Liv nodded, a hardness coming over her face. “Hold nothing back.”
“Very well.” My mom wiped her own eyes. “Genevieve asked a few of us to help her escape. You were only a few weeks old and she was barely healed. We agreed. One night, as the guards were changing shift, she placed you on her breast for feeding in order to keep you quiet.”
