Everything Under The Sun

“No.”

“It’s her, isn’t it?” He moved closer.

I pressed my back against the door.

He dropped the phone cord. I glanced at it once, and then met his conflicted gaze.

“I want you to listen to me,” he said calmly, intently. “Just listen to what I’m about to tell you—will you do that at least?”

I hesitated, and then nodded.

“Farah, Naomi, any one of Rafe’s wives will kill you before they ever help you.” He placed his hands around my upper arms.

Feeling uncertain about his closeness, I could only look at his shirt at first.

“If Farah has promised to help you out of the city,” he went on, “it’s only to get you alone with her. She’ll help you get only so far, and then she’ll have one of her midwives kill you. Or she’ll kill you herself.”

“Why would she do that?” I argued. “If they wanted to kill me, they could’ve done it many times, in many ways when I was alone with them. Naomi could’ve drowned me in the bath; Farah could’ve poisoned my food—it doesn’t make any sense!”

Atticus stepped back.

“And if that was true, why would you ever leave them alone with me in the first place?”

He sighed.

“When you were first brought here,” he said, “like any of the women, they—I—expected you to end up in the brothel. They’re not threatened by prostitutes, Thais, but they’re threatened by you because you’re youthful and beautiful and new.”

Beautiful?

“And they won’t kill you here,” he continued, “because if Rafe ever found out about it, the punishment would be severe. But by having you killed outside the city, and your body carried off somewhere, you’d be written off as an escapee, and no one could be blamed for that—well, no one other than me.”

I frowned.

“How do you know all this?” I said with disbelief, though a bigger part of me believed it. “You’re just saying it to make me trust you—all of this is just to keep me here.”

I tried to walk around him, but he stopped me.

“I know because it happened before,” he said, blocking my path. “You’re a threat to them, Thais. That roommate of yours would’ve been, too, if she hadn’t conformed like everybody else. But young, pretty girls who can bear children are more a rarity in this city every year, and that makes you a threat. Rafe has eleven wives—eleven—and those women are like a pack of wolves. They don’t want anybody else to compete with, or to share their husband with. And with him gone, they know there’s only a small window in which to get rid of you before he returns, and they’re going to take it.”

I wanted to believe him—I did believe him deep down—but I wanted to believe Farah more. I wanted the version that reunited me and Sosie and led us to our freedom to be the true version, and so desperation won out over instinct.

“She has my sister with her,” I said before I could stop.

I stepped forward, my arms down at my sides, despair in my face; but then despair turned to rebuke.

“You want me to believe,” I accused, “that a woman who was likely once in my position, who was forced to sleep with a man she didn’t love and to bear his children, means to harm me more than you do?”

Atticus, stung by my accusation, drew back his head, his eyebrows creased.

I went on:

“You expect me to believe you over her? You—a man who does the bidding of a tyrant? You—who forced my blind sister into a place where men can rape her? You—who separated us, even though I begged and pleaded with you not to?” I stepped closer, pointing my finger at him. “You—a man keeping me a prisoner inside this room so I can be given to another man, and so I can end up like Farah and Naomi, forced into his bed and to carry his children? YOU!” I pressed the tip of my finger against his chest and held it there, glaring upward the few inches to see his eyes.




ATTICUS




I was shocked into silence by her display. By her words. Because they held so much weight. She was right: Why did she have any reason to believe me over Farah? I hated myself in this moment. My choices. My ridiculous goals. My constant failures that began before I ever came to this city—Thais was about to become another one.

I exhaled deeply, and ran the palms of my hands over the top of my hair, hooking my fingers behind my head. I noticed Thais kept glancing toward the door, as if she was running out of time.

I tried one last time to make her see reason.

“Farah claims to have your sister”—I paused, regretting having to resort to this—“I know that’s a lie because I know where she is, and if she were anywhere else I would’ve been notified already.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.”

She shook her head. “You’re lying.”

I threw my hands up at my sides, pressed my lips together in a hard line.

Then I walked briskly over to the knapsack Thais had packed, snatched it from the floor and placed it into her hand. “Then go,” I said, defeated. “I won’t stop you. If you want to leave after everything I’ve told you, then go. But I can promise you, you’ll be dead within an hour.”

Thais froze in place, one of the straps on the knapsack crushed in her fist.

I stormed over to my bed, lifted the mattress, and found the gun I kept hidden there. I placed it into her other hand. She looked down at it for only a second, as if her mind didn’t register that it was real.

“Take it with you,” I said sharply, “because you’ll need it.”

I stepped around her then, slid the lock back, swung open the door, and left.




THAIS




In suffocating silence, I stared at the door for a long time until my gaze dropped to the gun in my hand. And I decided in that moment to do the only thing I could do.





18


ATTICUS





Marion and his scouting party were full of questions and accusations when I finally joined Peter on the steps of the old museum. They tested my patience for ten minutes, until I knew I had to set an example, or become one.

I drew my gun and shot one of Marion’s mouthy men in the foot. The man dropped onto the concrete, writhing in pain, his hands gripping the toe of his boot. Every mouth in the crowd snapped shut, leaving only a wave of whispers and the shuffling of clothing as the soldiers stepped away from me all at once, a mass of camouflage and sweat and boots dispersing in a backward motion.

“If any other person here,” I announced as two men came forth and took the wounded soldier away to be treated, “would like to question my authority, my responsibilities, or the way I choose to run things in Rafe’s absence, then step forward!”

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