15. Chapter 15 #2
I watched as we approached the way a dying man watched the light at the end of a tunnel.
An object sailed past, and I tracked it.
To my right, green rolling slopes were dotted with people. Moms and their children. Teens lounging on blankets. A boy caught the object that had flown past the car. Everyone was laughing, smiling, living.
Girls mingled with boys under the watchful eye of their mothers or chaperones.
Had Elias grown up playing with Sera and Lydia in this very park?
A girl fell, rolling across the grass.
I pressed my nose to the glass.
A boy rushed to her side, helping her to her feet.
I scratched the still-healing puncture wound in my arm absently.
She stood, dusting off her knees and handed him a dainty yellow flower.
“Flowers,” I mouthed as the tiny specks swarming the next hill stole my focus.
The car rolled to a stop in front of a row of buildings along the street. I glanced at my chaperone, but she stared straight ahead.
“Maryn Veil, daughter of Joel Veil. Exit.”
The door clicked open.
Outside, I turned back. “Are you not coming?”
The door closed before I’d finished my sentence, the car pulling away.
I stood outside the building we’d stopped in front of and stared up at half a dozen steps leading to a massive wooden door. It must have been reclaimed after the war. I’d heard of scrappers brave enough to go outside in search of items that had survived.
I couldn’t imagine what it must have cost the owner of this house.
But why had I stopped here? What was this place?
The last message I’d received on my tablet informed me I had passed my blood test and to pack my bag with everything I would need to complete the next phase of trials in the center. That was it.
The door swung open and Paul darted down the steps.
“Twelve!”
I hugged my bag tighter.
“I was second last time. You couldn’t call me Two?”
“Oh, she gets a little clearance and suddenly she’s sassy.”
Vera was tight on Paul’s heels staring me up and down.
Paul glanced over his shoulder. “You are so right, Vera,” he said in response to the thoughts written plainly on her face. “We’re losing daylight and she came dressed in a sack.
I glanced down at the gown I’d worn to the first social ball this year. “This is my nicest dress.”
Vera frowned. “I left four dresses at your house. Four.”
“I—”
“Let’s go.” Paul pointed up the steps. “We have fifteen minutes of light if we’re lucky. You’re the last one here. I want you changed and back outside in ten. Hustle!”
I raced up the steps, Vera leading the way to a winding staircase. We marched up; I was gasping by the time we reached the second floor.
“All the way to the end,” she called over her shoulder.
I huffed as I chased her to the last door and threw myself inside.
“Strip.”
I peeled off my clothes, tossing my bag on the floor.
Vera crossed the massive room I hadn’t had time to explore and began yanking hangers aside.
“This will be the quickest.”
I stepped out of my dress and she rushed me, dragging cream fabric down my body.
I poked my head through, pulled the sleeves over my shoulders and bent to find my pin in the pile of fabric on the floor.
Vera turned me around and began doing buttons up my back while I slid the pin over the fabric, securing it at my collarbone.
“Go,” she commanded.
I rushed out, dashing down the stairs and back out the front door.
“Faster,” Paul yelled and I nearly tripped.
With his tablet out, drones buzzed around his head, waiting for commands. He looked up.
“Honey, breathe.”
I did. And again. When my chest rose and fell at normal speed, he gave me a tight smile, muttering something about his lot in life. “Just look up like you’ve never seen a more beautiful home. Then slowly… walk up the stairs.”
I looked down, straightening my skirts, then shook out my hands and stared up at the gorgeous home I’d be staying in for the next several weeks.
Hopefully.
“That’s it. Smile.” Fingers tapped the tablet, and the drones were off, each going in its own direction. “I said smile.”
I relaxed my mouth and tried again. Serene. Calm. I would love to live here.
“Open the door.”
I did, stepping inside as if for the first time. I spun in a slow circle, letting some of my awe show.
“Good. Good! Now… Up the stairs. Slowly.”
I moved, letting my skirts swish.
“A goddess."
I smiled, letting my hand slide along the railing.
“Stop.”
I froze.
“Mother above! What’s that?”
I glanced down at my nails, wincing. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no time to fix it. Just keep your hands in the folds of your dress. Vera! You have work to do.”
I took another step, and another. When I reached the top step, one of the doors along the hall slammed.
Paul’s fingers flew over his tablet. “Vera!”
“On it.” Vera appeared from a hall I hadn’t noticed and knocked on the door.
A head of dark hair slid out before Sera’s face appeared. “We’re filming. Stay out of the hall.”
“Barren woman, Vera, you look tired.”
Vera’s face tightened, but she didn’t respond to Sera’s jab. Sera glowered at her, slamming her door once more.
“Okay, go.” Paul’s words jolted me into action and I moved down the hall.
I opened the door to my new room, my gaze sweeping the space, and exhaled when I saw my bag stuffed into a corner.
“Done.”
Paul stopped in the hall outside my room. “Vera will get you settled in, and we’ll see you on Tuesday.” He scanned me from head to toe. “Goodnight, Duchess.”
Vera stepped around Paul and closed the door in his face.
“I’ll be quick. You’ve had a long day.”
I collapsed onto a massive bed at the center of the room and stared around the immaculate space. Every inch of the room was white. I wanted to get my eyeliner pencil and draw a crack in the ceiling just to give it the feeling of home.
I stood, crossed the room, and grabbed my bag. I shuffled it around, checking to make sure the folder was there before pulling out my photo frame and setting it on the low table beside the bed.
Vera glanced at it. “Cute.”
She swept across the room, sliding back the thin door that now obscured the row of dresses I’d seen her digging through before. “These are your dresses. I’ve made enough for three weeks. From now on, when you leave this house, assume you are being filmed.”
She glanced around. “Actually. When you leave this room, assume.” She raised an eyebrow.
I nodded.
“Good. You have Monday to settle in. Now that you’re past the public trials, your days will be full. Trials Five through Seven don’t require me to dress you, but your date nights and Rite balls will.”
I tugged my journal out of my bag and hugged it to my chest.
“Let me see what’s in that bag.”
My fingers tightened around the straps, but Vera yanked them free and dumped the bag’s contents onto the bed. Her gaze skated over the pile. Then away—too quickly.
Moving, I tossed my journal over the black folder, my heart racing.
Vera held up a sleep gown and a thin cotton dress I’d normally worn at home on Mondays.
“Gross. You’re in the center now. That means even at home, you dress like it.”
She scooped up my clothes and tucked them under her arm. “I had a few night dresses made for you. I’ll make you day dresses, too.” She raised an eyebrow. “For Mondays only.”
I sat down atop my journal.
“If you make it past Trial Seven, I’ll get you more clothes.”
I scowled at her but said nothing.
“Good night, Maryn.” Vera turned toward the door. She glanced back. “And good luck.”