Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Iwas sweating by the time I made it to Trevor’s office, but I didn’t care.
Didn’t care that my shirt was clinging to my torso and my hair was stuck to the back of my neck, or that my pits were wet.
I had no idea if I smelled but hoped I did so I could sit next to Hilary on the bus or van or whatever vehicle we were about to get on.
I hoped it was a long ride and there was no air conditioning, because with each passing minute, I would scoot closer to her, would lift my arms, and make sure she could smell every drop of sweat that seeped from my pores.
That would be her Earthly penance for what she was doing.
God could deal with her punishment after that.
Sophia’s eyes were bright when I stumbled through the front door, telling me she was smiling behind her mask, but her expression quickly morphed into one of alarm when she took me in.
“Trevor!” she shouted as she got to her feet much faster than a woman her age should have been able to and rushed around her desk. “Sit down, dear. Oh, my, what’s going on? Is something wrong?”
She fired off the questions as she eased me into a chair in the waiting room, ignoring the wide eyes of the masked woman sitting in the nearby seat. She scooted over when I slumped into the chair only two away from hers, dropping my salad between us and letting my suitcase fall over.
Before I’d even had a chance to respond to Sophia’s inquiries, Trevor hurried from his office, securing his mask over his nose and mouth in the process.
I’d taken my own mask off once I was outside and hadn’t put it back on.
Something the other woman clearly didn’t appreciate since she was glaring at me.
Oh, well. I had bigger things to worry about.
“What’s going – ” The words died on Trevor’s lips when he spotted my suitcase.
“It happened,” I said, wanting to get it out, wanting to fall into his arms, wanting to cry. Wanting him to find a way to get me out of this mess.
His mouth was covered, but I didn’t need to see his whole face to understand the emotions sweeping through him.
The confusion, the shock, the anger. It was all clearly displayed in his gray eyes as he knelt in front of me, grasping my hands while Sophia massaged my shoulder and the stranger to my right stared on, her initial irritation now turning to confusion.
“Ara, no,” Trevor said. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe this.”
I swallowed, so I could talk. “I know.”
“Did you say what I told you to? Did you ask for a new contract? A lawyer?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t need to say more. Trevor was smart, the smartest person I knew, and he could read between the lines. More than that, though, he understood how hopeless the situation was. There was literally nothing I could do to change my circumstances. I was trapped. A prisoner.
“What did – ” Trevor glanced toward the woman three seats away from me. “Mrs. Howard, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to reschedule. Family emergency.”
Before I even had a chance to wonder if the woman would object, she got to her feet. “I can see. That’s fine. I can reschedule.”
“Tomorrow,” Trevor promised. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said in a timid voice.
She hurried to the door, Sophia following her. The older woman whispered something I couldn’t hear, then locked the door once the client was gone, flipping over the sign hanging in the window so open was now facing the inside.
Then she turned to us. “What are we going to do about those fuckers?”
I let out a laugh that was quickly strangled by sobs, and in seconds, I was in Trevor’s arms. He held me while I cried, neither of us talking, Sophia standing by the door wringing her hands. She looked how I felt. Lost. Helpless.
Knowing I didn’t have a lot of time, I pulled away from Trevor after less than a minute, working to get my emotions in check while I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “There’s nothing anyone can do. Not about this. The Department of Fertility has all the power.”
“Just cooperate, Ara,” Trevor said vehemently. “Just do what they say, and you’ll be finished with this in three years at the most.”
I gave him a sad smile. “Will I? Think about it, Trevor. You’re a lawyer, you looked at the contract, you know what the Department of Fertility is capable of.
You know what they can do and how much power they have.
Even if I cooperate, what’s to stop them from commandeering my body for as long as it’s useful?
I mean, if this pandemic is as bad as they’re predicting, the Department of Fertility might decide women like me shouldn’t be limited to three years of service.
They could easily change the law to make my time in the program indefinite. ”
Trevor’s eyes widened. “They wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t they?” I whispered.
Sophia snorted. “They’ll do whatever the fuck they think they can get away with. They don’t care about us. They only care about power.”
I swallowed my emotions and said, “Exactly.”
Silence settled over the room, which was broken when Trevor cleared his throat. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
His brows furrowed, creating a line between them. “Will they let you contact me after you get there?”
“I don’t know.”
The line deepened. “How long will you be gone?”
“I. Don’t. Know.”
Deeper still. “What do you know, Ara?”
“That I’m going to a secure location, that I have to report to the Department of Fertility by noon, and that if I don’t cooperate, there will be consequences. That’s all, Trevor. My fertility counselor wouldn’t tell me anything else.”
I glanced at the decorative clock behind Sophia’s desk as he blew out a frustrated breath. Eleven thirty-eight. I didn’t have a lot of time. Minutes. That was all.
I focused on Trevor. “I’ll contact you if I can. You know that.”
“I love you, Ara,” he whispered in a choked voice.
“I know,” I said, the words coming out strained. I got to my feet. “I’ll be okay. Like you said. If I cooperate, they have to release me when my time in the program is up.”
“In three years,” he whispered.
“It could be less.” I gave what I hoped looked like an unconcerned shrug. “It will go by fast.”
He closed his eyes, shaking his head, but said nothing.
I glanced toward the clock for a second time. Eleven forty.
When I was once again focused on Trevor, I said, “I have to go.”
Sophia moved toward me, stepping past him with her arms open. “Give me a hug.”
We’d never hugged before, but it felt oddly natural when she wrapped me in her arms. She was sturdier than I thought she’d be, not frail feeling, but solid. Like a person who could carry all your problems on her shoulders if you needed her to. If only I could let her.
“Do what they say,” she whispered in my ear, “but don’t lose your spirit. Don’t ever let them take that from you. Understand?”
“I won’t,” I said, the words nearly choking me on the way out.
Sophia patted my back, released me, and turned to Trevor. “Say your goodbyes.”
Like a child doing as he was told, he dutifully stepped toward me.
Then I was in his arms, and he was squeezing me tighter than he ever had before.
His body was shaking, telling me he was crying, and it had me tearing up.
When had I ever seen Trevor cry? I couldn’t remember a time, and we’d known one another since we were twelve.
I sniffed back my own sobs, afraid if the gates opened now, I’d never get them shut.
“Say goodbye to Owen for me.”
“I will,” he said, the words strained.
“I love you, Trevor,” I whispered.
Then I pulled away.
Avoiding looking him in the eye, I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door.
His quiet sniffles taunted me as I flipped the lock and pulled it open, and even after the door had swung shut and I was on my way, they stayed with me.
It wasn’t until I was halfway to the Health Department that I realized I’d forgotten my salad.
Oh, well. I probably wouldn’t have been able to keep it down anyway.
I arrived at the Health Department building with two minutes to spare.
Vera looked morose when she checked me in, and even the other security guards seemed shaken. Ramirez, for the first time since I’d started coming here, was nowhere in sight.
The other women from the support group were already in the waiting room when I reached the third floor, all of them wearing masks, suitcases at their sides.
Malika had a lightly used red tote, and like me, Ivy had a gray mid-sized suitcase on wheels, and while Ginger’s was slightly larger, it was much the same.
Bette’s, in contrast, was hard sided, pink, and nearly as big as she was. It was so her.
She stood at my approach, groaning from the effort. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I said, then had to swallow.
Like me, she was wearing a mask, but I didn’t need to see her face to know she felt the same way I did.
All the bitterness, worry, and betrayal I was currently feeling was reflected in my friend’s blue eyes, and when I scanned the other women in the room, their expressions were mirror images of Bette’s.
Even Ivy, who was more reserved than the rest of us, wore a pinched expression that hardened when Hilary, also wearing a mask, walked into the room.
Poor Ivy. She’d never get to see her grandma now.
“Good, you’re all here,” Hilary said, her tone even more condescending than usual. She glanced at her phone, presumably to check the time, and her brown eyes crinkled in the corners like she was frowning. “The van should be here soon.”
“Where are we going?” Ginger, whose blonde hair was doubly frizzy today, asked, not even trying to conceal her anger.
Hilary focused narrowed eyes on the other woman. “A secure location.”
“Such bullshit,” Malika muttered, her words slightly muffled by her mask.
Ginger ignored her, too focused on Hilary. “You said that already. I want to know where I’m going. I want to know what’s going to happen when I get there.”