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I heard someone rolling a serving cart down the hallway outside, the wheels squeaking under the weight. I stood, my legs feeling weaker than I expected as I walked to the carved wood bookshelves, crouching down beside them. All three books were tucked safely on the bottom shelves, right where Moss had put them hours before. If what he’d suggested was correct, if someone had tried to poison me, I’d need them sooner than I’d thought.
“You’re up . . . ” Clara rubbed her eyes, then glanced at my hand, where my fingers still rested on one of the spines. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” I said, settling into the cushion beside her. “Trying to distract myself, that’s all. ”
Clara put her hand on my back. “I’ve never seen you like that,” she said. “You scared me. ”
“I feel better already,” I said. “The worst has passed. ”
She ran her finger over the edge of the cushion, tracing along the thin white piping. “I’m glad. They couldn’t reach Charles. ”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said. “He’s at a construction site in the Outlands. He’ll be gone until sundown. ”
Her expression changed. I immediately felt guilty for saying what I had—the subtle acknowledgment that I knew his schedule better than she did. Clara and Charles were the only two teenagers who’d been raised in the Palace, and she’d always harbored feelings for him. She’d made me promise to tell her if he ever spoke of her. “He hasn’t said anything yet,” I offered, trying to comfort her. “You know, most of the time when we’re talking we’re fighting. We’re not exactly close. ” I covered her hand with my own and she smiled, a small, pinpoint dimple appearing in her cheek.
“I must seem so foolish to you,” she said with a laugh. “I’m carrying on a relationship in my head. ”
“Not at all. ”
How many times had I stopped in Califia, imagining Caleb was there beside me while I sat on the rocks, watching the waves lap at the shore? How many times had I let myself believe that he was still here, inside the City, that he’d appear one day, waiting for me by the Palace gardens? I still spoke to him, in the quiet of the suite, still told him I wished to go back to everything before. There were times I had to remind myself that he was gone, that the death report had been filed, that what had happened could never be reversed. Those facts were my only tether to reality.
Before I could say anything more, the door opened, the King pushing into the room without so much as a knock. He did this sometimes, as if to remind me that he owned every part of the Palace. “I heard what happened,” he said, turning to me. I sat up straight, as the doctor came in behind him.
“It was nothing,” I said, even though I wasn’t yet sure. Moss had taken the remnants of breakfast to the Outlands, trying to get answers about what it contained.
“You threw up twice,” he said. “You’re dehydrated. You could have passed out. ”
The doctor, a thin, bald man, didn’t wear a white coat as the ones at School did. Instead he was dressed in a plain blue shirt and gray slacks, like any other office worker in the City center. I’d been told it was safer this way. Even sixteen years after the plague there were feelings of resentment toward surviving doctors, questions of what they knew and when.
“Your father was concerned. He’d asked if it could be a reemergence of the virus,” the doctor said, cupping his hands together. “I assure you it’s not. ”
“This has become such an event,” I said, my gaze darting between them. “I feel all right, really. ”
“It’ll happen again, though,” the doctor said. I stared at him, confused. “Nausea gravidarum,” he said, as if that explained something. “Most people call it morning sickness. ”
My father was smiling, his eyes giving off a look of quiet amusement. He came toward me, pulling me to stand as he squeezed my hands. “You’re pregnant. ”
He hugged me, the sick, heavy scent of his cologne stinging my lungs. I didn’t have time to process it. I had to smile, to blush, to feign whatever joy I knew I was supposed to feel. Of course this was what my father wanted. In his eyes, Charles and I had finally given him an heir.
“This is happy news. We must go see Charles in the Outlands,” my father went on. “Once you’re properly dressed, come meet me by the elevators. ” Clara didn’t say anything. I didn’t dare look at her; instead I listened to her slow, uneven breaths. It sounded like she was choking.
“You’ll have to come in to the office this afternoon,” the doctor continued. “Run some tests to make sure everything is normal. In the meantime I’ve had the kitchen stock up on some ginger tea, some crackers—little things to settle your stomach. You may feel a bit nauseous, but skipping meals will only make it worse. And as you probably already know, you may find it wears off over the course of the day. ” He put out his hand for me to shake. I hoped he didn’t notice my cold palms or my stiff, unchanging smile. It wasn’t until he was gone, my father following behind him, that Clara finally spoke.
“I thought you didn’t love him,” she whispered, her words slow.
“I don’t,” I said.
I’d seen Clara angry before, could recognize how her face changed, her jaw set in a hard expression. But this was different. She turned her back to me, moving around the room, shaking out her hands as if trying to dry them. “It’s not true, Clara,” I said.
“Then what is true?” She stared at me, her eyes watery.
I hadn’t told anyone what had happened in the hangar with Caleb. It was the thing I returned to whenever my thoughts wandered. I remembered how his hands felt cradling my neck, his fingers dancing over my stomach, the gentle give of his lips against mine. How our bodies moved together, his skin tasting of salt and sweat. Now it existed in memory, a place that only I could visit, where Caleb and I were forever alone.
I’d heard the Teachers’ warnings, had reviewed all the dangers of having sex or “sleeping with” a man. They had told us, in those still classrooms, that even one time could bring on a pregnancy. But in the months since I’d left, I’d learned that nothing they’d said could be trusted. And even if it was a hidden truth—even if it wasn’t an exaggeration or falsification—it wouldn’t have mattered. There was no way to prevent pregnancy inside the City. The King had forbidden it.
Now, so many thoughts flew through my head: That it would be better if she didn’t know. That it would be safer if she didn’t know. That I would feel lonelier if she didn’t know, that I would be in more danger if she did know, that I would feel deceitful if she didn’t know. “Caleb,” I said finally. As soon as my father reached Charles it would be over anyway. “It was Caleb. I told you the truth—I have no interest in Charles. I never have. ”
She let her hands fall. “How come you never told me?” she asked. “When?”
“The last night I left the Palace,” I said. “Two and a half months ago. ”
She worried at the waist of her dress, picking at the delicate stitching. “Your father can never know,” she said.