Her appraisal was over. She focused on the man’s small carpetbag. Everything in there would determine her worth as a person. It would bring her one step closer to Corinna’s fate. Mia let her mind wander back to her discovery.
Under her sister’s floorboards had been a piece of glossy paper showing a mix of pictures and words. In small print at the top of the page were the words Unique Girl—UK Edition Volume 47, Fall Issue. The photograph was of a man in a tuxedo, with a woman lying at his feet in a big white dress. In big print below it read MODERN-DAY SLAVERY: AMERICAN BRIDES.
Mia felt a sharp prick on her arm. She swatted at it.
“Quick blood sample.” The appraiser grabbed her hand. “We have to make sure you are disease free and compatible with your husband. Now we are finished.”
The appraiser picked up his satchel and walked toward the door, letting himself out of the house. Now that she was alone, she let the tears stream down her cheeks.
“Sweetie?” Mia’s mother stuck her head in the room. “I heard the door close. Is the appraiser gone?”
“Yes,” Mia said.
Mia’s mother walked over and hugged her. She was a beautiful woman, with the same long dirty-blond hair as Mia. “Don’t cry. I’m sure you did great. Looks matter the most anyway.”
“That’s not it.” Mia pulled away and wiped her eyes. “I don’t think I want a husband.”
“It’s okay that you’re nervous, but this is a happy day! I was thrilled during my appraisal and your sisters were too, even Corinna. Now it’s over and you just have to wait a little longer.” Her mother seemed sincere. “All marriages have their ups and downs, and it is our duty to please our husbands.”
“Did you even care about her?” Mia asked, persisting.
“Of course I did, but it’s part of life. She needed to be independent of us and start her own family. Just like you will soon. Any struggle or hardship you go through will be worth it once you have a baby girl.”
Mia knew she was lying. She didn’t care about Corinna and in a short time she wouldn’t care about Mia either.
“I don’t want to get married,” Mia repeated.
Without hesitation, her mother raised her hand and slapped her. Mia put her hand to her throbbing cheek. Immediately, her mother pulled her back into a tight hug.
“I am tired of this. Marriage is your most patriotic duty. There will be no more of this conversation.” She rocked back and forth. “And don’t let your father hear talk like that. You are a woman now. Be happy, you’ll be the head of your own household soon.”
Mia nodded, but she did not agree. She knew this was not the life for her and wondered why nobody else saw that. Focusing on her swollen face, Mia made a promise to herself. She would not be a part of this vicious cycle. She knew what Corinna was trying to tell her. She was going to escape.
Chapter 2
Girls must hone their skills, such as cleaning, cooking, and sewing. These are traits that every man will find admirable and help ensure placement into a strong marriage.
—The Registry Guide for Girls
I knew you were going to appraise high, I just didn’t think that high,” Whitney said.
“I hate polishing day,” Mia said as she scrubbed her father’s trophies and awards with the toothbrush, ignoring her friend.
“I mean, five hundred thousand dollars? I’m only valued at five thousand. You are literally worth one hundred of me.” Whitney shook her head as she reached for another 4-H plaque to shine. “I’m priced so low no man will ever bother to look at my page. You’re going to end up married to some rich man and I’m going to end up a government servant.”
Truthfully Mia was surprised she had appraised that high, particularly after having bombed the test portion. She wanted to drop the subject.
Whitney went on. “Your father must be thrilled. He’ll make three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars from your wedding, and the government will be pleased with their cut, a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“How do you figure out the percentages so fast? Or at all?” Mia was impressed.
Whitney shrugged; now she wanted to drop the subject. It was strange how much the girls stood in contrast with one another. Mia was blond and lanky, with a dimpled smile and delicate features. Whitney, on the other hand, was dark and sturdy, with a gruff persona. But Whitney was the only other girl on the property, so they were friends. Neither had gone to finishing school, and they had both studied under Mia’s mother, yet Whitney always seemed to have excess knowledge.
Mia was growing tired of Whitney’s obsession with her appraisal amount. She didn’t feel glamorous or special just because of some piece of paper. The whole thing made her nauseous. She decided that now was a good time to change the subject. “You used to live farther north, right?”
“Yeah, but still in the Midwest Area. We left when I was six, after my mother died.” Whitney continued polishing. “I don’t remember much.”
Mia felt a pang of guilt. She knew Whitney hated bringing up her mother. It was not Mia’s intention to upset her friend; she did have a reason for her questions.
“Did your father ever take you into Canada?” Mia tried to ask in a casual manner.
“Why?” Whitney stopped polishing.
“No reason, I was just curious about a foreign husband,” Mia lied. “I heard there is a chance a non-American can get access to the Registry. I wonder what it’s like in Canada.”
Mia hadn’t known other countries were so close to America until last month. She’d thought of them as on the other side of the world, where the soldiers went nobly to battle. Every day Mia felt her belief in the American way slipping. Finally she had asked Whitney about other countries and found out about their two bordering neighbors: Mexico and Canada. It was then that the idea to leave had taken hold.
Mia starting polishing faster, but Whitney didn’t appear to buy her explanation. Mia should have known Whitney would figure her out; she was too smart and too observant to fool.
“Are you thinking about running?” Whitney nearly shouted.
Mia leaped to put her hand over Whitney’s lips.
“No! Of course not.”
“Good; that would be stupid. You’d get yourself killed or worse.”
“I was just curious about Canadian husbands.”
“Women aren’t allowed to travel alone. You’d get picked up right away and who knows what the hooligan who found you would do. Maybe you’d be lucky enough for a RAG agent to recover you, but then your father would kill you. The government would reappraise you and mark you as a runaway, and no husband would want you. It would be me and you as government servants right off the bat, working in some factory or cleaning up buildings. Maybe even the government wouldn’t want you.”
“I’m not running to Canada; just drop it.” Mia shook her head.
She thought of Corinna. Her husband had done more damage to her than any hooligan would, and RAG agents didn’t scare Mia, not since she’d seen Corinna’s article. Young women are trained to think their captors are protectors, and the pseudonym for the government agency that hunts them, Recovery of Abducted Girls, tricks the people into thinking agents are heroes when they are nothing but Registry gofers.
“I wouldn’t try Canada, either.” Whitney started polishing again. “They deport all girls right back home.”
“How do you know that?”
“My father’s not as strict as yours. He didn’t have to worry about wasting an investment, so he taught me some practical things,” Whitney said. “Sometimes I think he wants me to run.”
Mia looked away. Whitney was always so negative about herself. After her mother died her father had moved them here. He clearly had no plans to make any money off of her. Mia thought he was the reason for Whitney’s intelligence. She was pretty but had never really learned how to present herself. She would have been a prime candidate for finishing school, but her father wouldn’t hear of it. Still, Mia was surprised Whitney
had appraised so low; it didn’t seem right.
Mia’s thoughts returned to her escape and she felt her world crushing down on her. Canada seemed like the safest option. There was no Registry up there. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes.
“Now, Mexico, that’s a possibility,” Whitney said, not looking up from her work. “Of course the trip is longer and more dangerous.”
Mia whipped her head back. “How long?”
“I don’t know. I might have more knowledge about the world than you, but I’m not exactly worldly.”
Mia took a long, deep breath and tried to think about how she could make it to Mexico. She knew she needed help. “Come with me.”
“Sure, but your mother will be mad if we don’t finish in here first,” Whitney said. “Your father’s won too many farming awards. I didn’t even know they had this many.”
“No.” Mia reached out and grabbed Whitney’s arm. “Come with me to Mexico.”
Whitney burst out laughing but started to slow down when she realized Mia was not joining her. The two girls stared at each other in awkward silence till Mia spoke.
“I can’t live this life. I don’t want to marry a stranger. I’ve seen it with my sisters. The last time I saw or heard from any of them was the day they got married.”
Mia’s parents had sworn her to secrecy. It killed her that she couldn’t share Corinna’s fate with Whitney, but Mia wasn’t sure she could even convey the poor shape Corinna had been in, let alone show Whitney the anti-American words hidden in her room.
“Well, when they got married they became the property of their husbands. And it’s not like you were close with your sisters before they wed.”
“What about you and me? We’re close. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Maybe you’ll get a nicer husband who will let you keep in contact . . .”
“I’m not anyone’s property!” Mia said. “You realize that my getting married means we will never see each other again either. You’re my best friend. Please, I need to get away from this, and I need your help to do it.”
“No, no way. We’ve always known we would part once you got married. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your world.”
“We’ll disguise ourselves as boys! Nobody will notice,” Mia said. “And if we get caught it’s not like anything will have changed for you. I’ve heard you say a thousand times you think you’re destined for a life as government property. What if there is some sweet boy down in Mexico waiting to meet you? If you leave with me, you can have the life you want.”
Mia knew this was a good argument.
But Whitney’s pensive expression went flat—and then she shook her head.
“You know what the Registry Guide says. The success rate of RAG agents? It’s over ninety-nine percent. I think that’s why most girls aren’t stupid enough to run away.”
“The success rate is so high because nobody tries!” Mia said. Girls are programmed so young that none of them attempt to escape; they think they are living the only life possible. She had more faith in that one piece of paper from Unique Girl than the whole Registry Guide. “Please! I can’t do this alone. I’m not clever or smart enough. I need you.”
Waves of emotion crossed Whitney’s face. Mia reached out and grabbed her hand.
“What’s gotten into you?” Whitney asked. “A few months ago you would’ve been bragging nonstop about your price tag, and now you want to run from a dream life?”
Mia just stared at Whitney, refusing to answer. The dream no longer existed. After several minutes of silence Whitney let out a sigh and nodded her head. Mia leaned over and hugged her friend.
“I’m not doing this for you. I think you’re crazy and making a mistake, but I’ve been in the Registry for over six months now; in six more months I’ll be married to the government. I haven’t had a single prospect, and I want to get married. If we are going to do this, we need a plan. We need to do this right.” Whitney sounded stern. “When would we leave?”
“All I know is what you know,” Mia said.
“We need to plan. We need a map and a method of transportation. We need to start storing food, figure out the distance, and get ready to pose as men.” Whitney was taking charge. “Use every chance you can to learn about travel and Mexico. The more information we have, the better we can do. That means trying to get access to a computer, or at least a newspaper or a book.”
“But that will draw my parents’ attention, and I’ve never touched the computer in my life,” Mia said.
“I know you’re scared of your parents, but they will spit fire when you cost them half a million dollars. So suck it up and ask for a book or computer privileges.”
Mia had never had any interest in computers; she thought they held too much information and were only necessary for men. But since Corinna’s visit she had tried desperately to get hold of one. Unfortunately her father kept his in a locked desk drawer in his locked office. She didn’t want to disappoint Whitney, so she nodded her head, promising herself she would find a way. Mia started to dream about a free life. She tuned Whitney out as she continued to babble more instructions. Mia could feel her plan growing. Now there were two.
Chapter 3
There is nothing wrong with a girl admiring her own beauty. It is a pleasant and acceptable way to pass the time. Focusing on positive attributes increases her ability to highlight them.
—The Registry Guide for Girls
Can I please see my page?”
Mia’s father, David, looked up from his papers and over at his daughter. It was rare for her to come into his office uninvited.
“Now? It’s the middle of the day. I still have to get some orders out.”
“It’s been up for over a week now and I haven’t seen it yet,” Mia said.
The plump old man gave his daughter a disapproving look. His gray hair went in all directions. He ran his hand over his wiry mustache before continuing.
“All right, you win.”
He began typing at his screen while Mia rushed behind him, hoping to learn something about the computer. She glanced at the keyboard and was surprised the letters weren’t placed alphabetically. She was trying to study their order when her father drew her attention to the screen.
Mia was shocked by what he pulled up. Her picture took up most of the page. It was from the day of her appraisal: No makeup, hair slicked back tight, and that black bodysuit. No smile or emotion displayed on her face at all. She thought she’d never looked worse.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Mia made a disgusted face. Truthfully she was relieved at how unattractive she looked, thinking it would deter a husband. “That is a hideous picture of me! Who in their right mind would want that as a wife?”
Her father chuckled and clicked a button. Other pictures of Mia popped up. These displayed her made up like a doll or wearing next to nothing. She found these even more disturbing, especially because she had taken those months ago, long before Corinna’s visit. Mia was repulsed by her former self.
“All the girls in the Registry have the same picture,” said her father. “That’s because men started complaining about parents using false photos. This way, the men can see their natural beauty. Your natural beauty.”
“Can I see someone else’s profile?” Mia just wanted to watch how her father operated the machine.
“Sorry, all I have access to is your page. It is expensive to use the Registry. That way only men who are serious about finding a wife can log in.”
Mia tried to focus on the computer, to see if there was any way she could use it, but she knew it was a lost cause. It was unlikely she could even figure out how to turn it on. She shook her head and walked toward the door.
“Don’t you want to know if anyone has offered for you?” Her father raised his eyebrows. “Hear about any of your possibilities?”
Mia paused and turned back toward him.
“I figure you will let me know what I need to abou
t who and when.”
“Well, I was going to wait for your mother to tell you, but I am meeting with a prospective husband this week.” He smiled ear to ear.
Mia knew he expected her to jump for joy at this bit of information, but all she cared about was the timing of this potential match.
“Isn’t that too soon?”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s for me to take care of. I’m sure you are ready and will charm this gentleman, and land yourself a nice life and comfort for your mother and me.”
Yes, comfort indeed. Mia nearly snorted. With four attractive daughters, her parents were already wealthier than most. Growing up, she had always thought her parents loved her, and she had loved them in return, wanting nothing more than to make them proud, and the best way to do that was to land an expensive price tag. After she saw them return her older sister, she knew it wasn’t love that motivated them. It was greed. She forced a smile and excused herself.
Mia walked into the kitchen and slid open the glass back door. She started to make her way toward Whitney’s apartment, her head spinning.
Breaking into a run, Mia turned a corner, picking up speed, and barreled straight into a wall, smacking her forehead and landing on her rear.
Dazed, Mia watched the wall move, only to realize it was a person.
Mia’s heart jumped as she sat up. Andrew, her father’s head farmhand, towered over her. The long cords of his neck stood out as he clenched his jaw, and thick, wavy black hair fell in front of his piercing brown eyes. Mia’s mouth hung open slightly; she had never been so close to one of the male workers before. She knew she was staring but couldn’t look away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” Her voice was meek.
Andrew instinctively reached out to her to help her up, his eyes never leaving hers. Mia leaned forward and offered her hand, but he suddenly jerked back as if burned. As if he’d only then realized who she was, that she was a girl. As if he was scared. Of her?
His attention quickly turned to the reason for his carelessness. Close to the barn, a group of five teenage farmhands were picking on a littler one. The victim looked just about thirteen. He was on the ground crying. Mia couldn’t make out what the other boys were saying, but they were taunting him.
The Registry Page 2
