Page 98 of Born for Silk

“Never?”

“Never.”

How is that possible?

I frown, gazing at a large brick archway ahead, veined with the lost green fingers of nearby trees. Just like in the Silk Aviary, they appear to be reaching for something, seeking. True beams from the sun, I always presumed.

“What about when you were a babe?”

The curated breeze gently moves her honey-swirled brown hair around her dainty features, carrying her unique scent of sweet oranges. “There is a hidden nursery in The Estate. It is where Rome and I were both raised. All the babes born for his Collective will be raised there.”

Under The Estate—the thought comes unbidden. Like in the tunnel with the flickering overhead lights, the one I was never meant to see.

“You are the queen,” I say. “You're everyone’s mother. You visit the Common?—"

“Rome will not allow it.” His name and her declaration threaten to awaken the torment I left as salty tears over the shower tiles this first-light.

I swallow. “Do you want to visit them?”

The aviary goes still as she slows her step, the question almost paralysing her and the birds.

“In theory.” Her voice is detached for a blink. “He may be right after all.” She returns to her steady, graceful pace, and I mirror her. “I may not cope. I may break into tiny pieces and lose my mind… all over again.”

I knew she had experienced something awful; I could feel her suffering low inside my stomach. Maybe she will tell me one day, or maybe not, but her sorrow doesn’t seem the kind you ask questions about. It is the kind you merely cradle so it is not so lonely.

“Or maybe you heal.” I shouldn’t have said that. “Through your Purpose,” I add quickly.

“Purpose.” She breathes.

“I’m a naïve Silk Girl,” I dismiss. “I couldn’t possibly understand your great Purpose, but… imagine the smiles on everyone's faces when they see you.”

“It has been too long,” she whispers, stopping to pluck a small flower worming up between two silvery stones. “What if they do not like me?”

Turning to face me, eyes only inches away from mine, she tucks the little, yellow floret behind my ear.

I smile. “What if they do?”

A small pause circles us, and then something pulls her attention over my shoulder. “Look.”

Spinning around, I follow her gaze to the split between two branches that cup a wooden platform bedded with tangled leaves and twigs.

“There is a nest with three baby birds inside,” she says.

They are all chirping to the sky. They are big… eagles, I think. Where is their mother? Close, I imagine.

Three babes…

Maybe two boys and a girl. It doesn’t matter to their mother. They are all beautiful and… hers.

I find myself standing in The Circle, outside of Ana’s door, willing myself not to knock. Not to disturb her while she grieves. It’s such a strange feeling—loss. I knew what Rome was, what we were and what we would never be, and I fell in love with him anyway. If I feel this sick, yearning for him, then Ana’s suffering must be unbearable.

“Ana?” I call softly through the door, rapping my knuckles gently along the wooden grain. With a sigh, I press my forehead to it. I know you’re not sick… Let me comfort you. “I have a puzzle,” I say it as the idea strikes me. Lifting my head, I decide to put my entire heart into this.

I leave The Circle, go to the activity room, retrieve a two thousand piece floral puzzle, and return in haste.

Knocking again, I say, “I have a small puzzle, and I think we should do it together." I test the knob; it turns with ease.

It’s open. Shit.

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