Page 4 (1/2)

Wither Lauren DeStefano 34330K 2023-08-31

"Where are you from?" she asks Her voice has none of the peevishness she showed Deirdre at the door Her thick eyelashes flutter up She watches an insect spiral around her and disappear

I don’t want to tell her where I’m from I’m supposed to sit here and be polite, but how can I? How can I when I’iven to her husband and forced to bear children I never wanted?

So I say, "Where were you from when they took you?"

I’m not supposed to ask her questions, and as soon as I’ve asked it, I realize I have stepped on a landfor Deirdre or her husband, the House Governor, to take eon for the next four years

To my surprise she only says, "I was born in this state This town, in fact" She reaches up behind her, takes a picture froet a look

The photo is of a young girl standing beside a horse

She’s holding the reins, and her sht that her teeth doht of it Beside her, a much taller boy stands with his hands behind his back His sh he hadn’t meant to smile but couldn’t help himself in the irl in the photo

Then she traces her finger over the boy’s outline "This is ht of hiether"

I’m not sure what to say to this She is so lost in this memory, and so blind to my imprisonment But still I feel sorry for her In another time, under different circumstances, she would not have needed to be replaced

"See?" she says, still pointing to the photo "This is in the orange grove My father owned acres of them Here in Florida"

Florida My heart sinks I’m in Florida, on the bottom of the East Coast, more miles from home than I can count I miss my ivy-silhouetted house I miss the distant commuter trains Hoill I ever find my way back to thees Because it’s true, they are lovely Things seem to thrive in this place

I would never have suspected that the vibrant girl standing beside her horse in the grove could be dying now

"Aren’t they?" she says "Linden prefers flowers, though There are orange blosso That’s his favorite In the winter there are snow festivals, and solstice dances--but he doesn’t like those Too loud"

She unwraps a green candy and pops it into her mouth

She closes her eyes for athe floor The candies are each a different color, and this one, the green, has a peppermint smell that takes irl ould throw her candies into my bedroom, how their smell would fill the paper cup into which I’d respond to her voice

When Rose speaks again, her tongue has taken on the emerald color of the candy "But he’s an excellent dancer I don’t knohy he’s such a wallflower"

She sets the picture on the divan in a sea of wrappers

I can’t decide what to make of this woman, who is weary and so sad, and who snapped at Deirdre but is treating me like a friend My curiosity quells e world of beautiful things, there may be some humanity after all

"Do you kno old Linden is?" she asks me I shake my head "He’s twenty-one We’d planned to ht all these medicines would keep me alive for four extra years

His father is a very pro away at finding an antidote" She says that last bit fancifully, letting her fingers flutter in the air She does not think an antidote is possible Many do, though

Where I come fro thes for a few extra dollars But an antidote never arrives, and a thorough analysis of our gene pool turns up no abnormalities to explain this fatal virus

"But you," Rose says "Sixteen is perfect You can spend the rest of your lives together He won’t have to be alone"