“You…” There’s an excellent chance she’s testing me to see how quickly I freak out at the thought of her having independence. “Once you’re legally an adult and have a job, that will be entirely up to you.”
A smile plays on her lips. “I thoughtyouwere supposed to get a job.”
“I am a grown ass woman with a whole acreage to care for,” I remind her. “But… maybe. I would like to find something here that’s just mine.”
“Yeah. Me too. Maria already knows she wants to be a teacher.” April looks down at her shoes. “I’m just trying to survive this school year.”
“Hey. You’re going to be a scientist, remember? No selling yourself short.” I nudge her arm, and she flushes at the reminder of her real ambition. I’m never letting her forget what she promised herself. She deserves to live a life as brilliant as she is. “What did you get on that math test, by the way? The one Maria helped you study for?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Kayla, that was weeks ago.” “Well, I apologize for being wrapped up in my own shit back then. So, how did you do?”
She flicks her ponytail behind her shoulders. “I got an A. Of course.”
Finally, the bus comes, and I’m free to head back to the acreage. I spot Sid and Silas chopping back the last of the dead tomato plants. Wendell and Dom are tossing a football back and forth. James is gathering eggs while one of the hens pecks at his shoelaces and Carlos is by the herb garden, picking sage leaves for tonight’s stew. His new kitten is perched on his shoulders, rubbing her face into his ear.
A word I’ve rarely used for the places I’ve lived sings through my bones.Home.
***
“THERE ARE PROVISIONSfor abuse survivors.” Amy scribbles in a pre-Quake spiralbound notebook. “No one is expected to disclose abuse upon applying for sanctuary, so Tomcan’t assign you demerits for choosing to do it now. What you’re describing seems to qualify, but…”
“There’s abut?” I ask.
For a brief second, the law seemed sane to me. Sid and I agreed it would be best to get another opinion before I approach Council with what I know about Astolia. Amy was the safest person to tell, since she already knows a few of our secrets and—most importantly—isn’t Tom.
The three of us sit together around a very ugly table Sid picked up from the exchange. It’s hard, plastic patio furniture, misshapen on one side due to melting against a fireplace at some point. He admitted that he chose it “because it was cheap”; I’m suddenly glad he never bought much furniture before I came here. He promised we could return it in the morning if I come with him. I’m starting to wonder if the table was a ploy to get me into town with him again and damn it, it might work.
Still, it’s easier to talk with somewhere to set our mugs, papers, and Amy’s large collection of pens. They’re all black. I have no idea why she needs so many.
Amy pushes one pen back and picks up another. “The issue is that we have a long-standing relationship with Astolia. Orthoughtwe did. They’re not a major trade partner, but they passed the human rights check years ago.” I open my mouth to protest, and Amy holds up a hand. “I know! I know they faked it. Sent a whole bunch of people away before we could see how cramped the living conditions were. I’m not saying your accusations aren’t true. They add up, if you ask me. But…”
“But it’s our word against theirs?” Sid says.
“Exactly.” Amy sweeps a hand out.
“Hmmm.”
“And it could hurt your platform, Sid, if people think you’re throwing accusations around but can’t substantiatethem. Not to mention, you’ve built a lot of your campaign on working closer with foreign partners and immigrants.”
I know we invited her over to give us the brutal truth, but I struggle not to resent her for it. There shouldn’t be problems. I know what I experienced. I turn to look at Sid, arms folded tightly over my chest. “So… do you want me to shut up about it?”
“No,” he says, but I can hear the worry in his voice. “But… it would be nice if we had evidence. Is there anything you can think of that might help?”
“Help do what? If no one wants to believe me—”
“Trigger an investigation of the colony,” says Amy. “Convincing Council to do something like that will require reasonable doubt that they’re the ones lying. Not you.”
I wish I was facing demerits instead. A slap on the wrist for hiding my past sounds easier to handle than people doubting my story. Evidence? All the scars I carry are internal.
“I didn’t bring anything from there,” I say. “But I can give names. I can list whole families of people who should be there.”
“That would be a start.” Amy adds another note. This black pen produces a thinner line than the one she was using earlier, giving her notes the illusion of headings and subheadings. “Though they could easily deny the existence of those people. I think it would help once we’re investigating them, but triggering the investigation is the issue.”
“Well… I don’t know. What do they do when they visit the island?” I ask.
Sid shrugs. “From what I understand, not a whole lot. They’re technophobes.”
“Ugh, we had one come by the guild and, like, sprinkle holy water on our door.” Amy shivers at the memory. “He was given a warning. Haven’t seen him since.”
