Page 81 of Undone
Remy
Prepare for war.
Dear God, where had that message come from? What was going on behind the scenes? How could I get word to Linette without the Senator or guards getting suspicious? I wracked my brain during the morning’s class.
Just before lunch, somewhat of a disturbance rose outside in the hall. A group of guards and soldiers rushed out of the building, getting in their vehicles and heading toward Primo Town. My heart flew into my throat. It was all I could do to finish my lesson. What was happening in the encampment? Had they found the radio?
By the time the children filed out for lunch, and the Senator walked in, my pulse was racing so fast I could hardly breathe. He looked sullen.
I was so lightheaded I wanted to sit down, but I couldn’t look suspicious. I leaned a hip against the desk and clasped my hands as he approached and stopped.
“Quite the activity today,” I said.
“Yes. Unfortunate activity.”
Breathe, Remy, breathe.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked.
He glanced toward the window, then back at me. “A woman in Primo Town has broken the law, and must be dealt with accordingly.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. No response was adequate. I waited for the rest of the information to drop, knowing we’d come so far. Only four days until the mating time. So close, only to be caught.
“Ms. Oliver, who worked in the kitchens,” he said.
It took two full seconds for my body to respond to what he was saying.
“What?” I whispered.
“Do you know her well?”
“No. I know who she is.” She was a tall, thin, brunette. About thirty, maybe thirty-five. Grumpy, but she’d never been mean to me. Then again, we’d never spoken much either.
“She is pregnant,” he said.
My mouth dropped open as that news hit me. I blinked rapidly, feeling ill.
“What will happen to her?”
“Well, if she reveals who the father is, and he is of a different race than her, we will allow her to live until the child is born.”
I covered my mouth against the harsh brutality of it.
“Do you know who she had relations with?” the Senator asked me.
I shook my head. “No, sir.”
“No matter. My soldiers will find out easily enough.” The Senator swallowed and nodded. “The sooner we can deal with this, the better for all.”
All I could do was stare at him in horror. He did look regretful, but it didn’t matter. He was going to kill her.
“Ms. Haines . . .” The Senator stepped closer. And closer, until we were near enough to touch. “If the child is biracial, I will recommend that you get to tend to it in its infancy.” A small smile crossed his lips, as if, in a morbid way, he were giving me a gift. “It is not generally how we do things, but I can have a crib brought to your accommodations. Just until the child is old enough to begin lessons. Two years? Perhaps three? Then he or she will begin life as a family unit within Primo Town.”
His head cocked, and God help me . . . his eyes were full of affection. He believed this was what I would want. A murdered woman’s child, as a consolation gift for having my own ovaries mutilated. I pressed my lips together against a sob, because I knew when it came down to it, I would raise that baby with all the love in my heart. But it was wrong. So wrong.
The Senator raised a hand, as if to lay it on my shoulder, only to drop his arm in defeat.
“There was a time, in the height of my congressional rule, when I became accustomed to touching. Handshakes, patting of shoulders, even hugs, and kisses on the cheek. But . . .” He looked toward the one guard at the door, then back at me. “This feels different.”
