by K. A. Gandy
“Well, my parents, my brothers and I, plus my sisters-in-law and two nephews.” I try to gloss over the fine details.
“It must be nice to live so close to family,” she says, and her warmth seems genuine. I allow myself to relax a hair.
“Patrick, how do you feel about having been matched with a wife with such a strong family waiting for her at home?”
“Sadie is such an amazing woman, there is no way her family could be anything less. I’m happy she has that support system in her life, for whenever our family starts growing.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
Candy presses a hand to her heart. “Oh my, you heard it here first! Patrick Royce, already planning a family with Sadie. I have to say, the attraction between the two of you is clear.”
I duck my head, embarrassed with the abrupt turn in the conversation.
Patrick slips an arm around my shoulders, as if it can protect me from the prying Candy. “We’ve been very blessed, that our genetic match turned out to be a love match, too.”
Candy leans forward, eyes gleaming with intent. “Sadie, some would say you’ve been the most blessed of all. Here you are, an average girl from a ranching family, and you win the genetic lottery and are matched with the single most eligible man on the entire continent. How do you feel about the fact that so many women would kill to be in your shoes right now?”
My brain spins, trying to think of an appropriate diplomatic answer. “I can see why people might think they’d want to be in my shoes, but Patrick’s family responsibility is not something either of us takes lightly.”
“That’s understandable, given the weight on your shoulders. After all, you’re about to be made royalty! The two of you, and your future son or daughter will rule one of the largest nations in the modern world.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Speaking of future children, any news you’d like to share today?”
It is not okay to punch someone on national television. It is not okay to punch someone on national television. I’m too busy repeating my new mantra to answer, so Patrick slides in smoothly.
“Not at this time. As you know, even with the NLC’s genetic matching technology, it is not a quick or guaranteed process.”
A mask of sympathy falls across her features. “Yes, it’s so true. The heartbreak of childlessness is still far from eradicated. What would you say to the citizens out there dealing with this same situation, or those soon to be pulled into the Compulsory Marriage Program?”
It’s my turn to jump in. “I would say that your ability to bear children doesn’t define your worth as a person. You’re not alone, and there is hope. There is always hope.” I repeat it, hoping that it sinks in for me, as well as anyone watching. We have to have hope.
“What a touching sentiment, Sadie. Thank you for sharing that. Now, I have one final question for you, before we let you two get back to your honeymoon.” She pauses, and locks her eyes on the camera lens, as if sharing a secret with the viewers. When she turns back to us, something about her mischievous smile gives me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“We have received information from an anonymous source that you two are an exceptionally high match.” She takes another dramatic pause and stares conspiratorially into the camera lens. “So high, in fact, that it’s the highest recorded match in the history of the NLC program. We know you two have been here going on a few months now, so, we have to ask—how do you feel about the fact that your brother and his wife have already conceived, and you two are still here, stuck waiting? You two are responsible for the continuation of the royal line, after all—that must add an enormous amount of pressure.”
My jaw drops at her audacity at dragging my family into this, and then trying to pit us in some twisted competition, on top of that. Anger starts to bubble like lava inside of me, but I force the serene smile back into place on my face. I lock eyes with Candy and her smirk nearly pushes me right over the edge.
Patrick must have felt the change in my demeanor, because he gives a barely perceptible squeeze with his arm that’s still wrapped around my shoulders.
“Oh, Candy,” I say, my most charming southern twang underlaid with steely intent. “I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you on this one. You see, I’m old-fashioned. Whenever our families have such good news, we celebrate with them. Life is not a competition, and the only thing I feel towards my brother is pride and joy. I’m sure you can understand. Now”—I stand gracefully, thankful for my foresight in refusing to wear the awful platform shoes—“if you’ll excuse us, we do have to be going.”
Patrick stands tall at my side, gives Candy a firm nod, and we exit the room hand-in-hand without looking back. The sea of recording personnel parts to allow our escape, a few of them gaping at our unscheduled exit.
Too dang bad, I think angrily, but keep the tepid smile fixed on my face. We reach the stairs, and I fly up them ahead of Patrick, and quickly shove my way into our room, and straight out the glass door onto our balcony. The sounds of the ocean wash over me. Eyes closed, cold wind whipping my carefully-pinned hair. Patrick joins me, but doesn’t say anything, letting me have my moment of solitude. Once my face is numb and my arms are covered in chill bumps, I finally open my eyes. Patrick is observing me intently from the rocking chair.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s unprofessional to leave an interview early, and I'm sure they’re going to have a field day with that answer, but, it’s none of her business, anyone’s business if I’m pregnant or not. Who is she to put that expectation on us? Do people not realize that some women go their entire life and never have a full-term pregnancy?” I start to pace the length of the small balcony. “Patrick, this could all be moot for me. You will be prince, sure. But under the current laws, if I don’t get pregnant in the next three years, I won’t stay the princess, you’ll be married off to the next best genetic match and she’ll be the one by your side through the rest of this . . . whatever happens next.” I gesture vaguely into the distance.
He finally stands, and steps into my path, forcing me to stop and look up at him. “Don’t apologize. I think you were amazing, especially for your first ever interview. And, Sadie, you and I both know that’s not going to happen.” His voice is calm, certain.
“No, we don’t, Patrick. We don’t know anything. We hope it’s not going to happen; we hope things will work between us, but . . . there are no guarantees anymore. The best science we have still isn’t a sure thing.” He rubs his hands up and down my chilled arms for a moment, before he shucks his suit jacket and wraps it around me. The warmth and his familiar masculine scent roll over me in a wave of comfort, and I shudder. He then cups my cheeks in his warm hands, making me feel sheltered.
“You’re right, Sadie. We don’t know for certain that we’ll be able to have kids. But, can you honestly tell me that you think in three years things will be the same as they are now? That we’ll have to get divorced? Because I don’t. With what we know, what we have to uncover . . .” He pauses, shaking his head. “It’s going to be a different world by then. It has to be.”
At his words, an entirely different responsibility weighs heavily on my shoulders. The worry about being separated from Patrick still dogs my thoughts . . . But he’s right. If it’s not different by then, it means we’ve failed to expose the corruption and lies—and that’s unacceptable.
The Girl Out of the Country
Another day dawns, and I awake warm and snuggled into Patrick’s arms. Every new day waking up in the same way is a kind of torture. In a way, this is our honeymoon, and we’re happy together in our secluded bubble. But the pristine solitude hides a seething underbelly of corruption, and I can’t truly enjoy our luxurious surroundings, knowing what’s hidden in the woods a short distance away.
I sneak to the bathroom to take care of my urgent need to pee, and spot the little stack of urine collection cups that were delivered last night.
Ugh, testing time again already. At least I won’t have to go far to drop it off now
that we’re in the guest house.
I grab a cup, collect a urine sample, and wash up before heading out to the bedroom. Patrick is still snuggled up in the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes to block the weak sunlight infiltrating our room. I pause, and take in the picture. It’s rare that I get to see him sleeping because he’s always up before me. He really is handsome—all muscles and lightly bronzed skin. His hair is mussed, making him look younger. The many facets of him boggle my mind, if I try to think about all the individual strands that make him up. Security Guard. Husband. Political Figure. False Identity. Killer. Lover. Protector. Peaceful, sleeping man. Somehow, they all tie together into this one, complicated, perfect package.
Patrick stirs, and his eyes blink open, taking me in as I loiter in the bathroom doorway. “Morning,” he says, voice roughened from sleep.
“Good morning.” I give him a small smile.
“Everything okay? You’re not usually up before me.” He switches straight into overprotective mode, one of the things I’ve come to love about him.
I never have to wonder if he cares.
“Yep, just had to use the bathroom. Nothing to worry about.” I slide back into the bed next to him, and sit against the headboard with my arms wrapped around my knees.
He studies my profile, an eyebrow raised. “Is it the pregnancy testing that’s bothering you? Are you nervous that you could be pregnant already?” His voice is gentle, and he rubs a soothing hand along my thigh.
“No, it’s not that, actually. To be honest, I haven’t really thought about it too much. It’s so soon, it’s unlikely to happen yet, right?” I pause, thinking it over. “I mean, I know it happened for Teddy and Faith, but, deep down I don’t feel like it will be that quick.”
He gives my leg a gentle squeeze. “It will happen when it’s meant to.”
“Yeah, I think so, too.” My voice is quieter now. “How much longer do you think it will take Glitch to figure out if he can hack into the security system? It’s awful sitting around with this huge secret, and not being able to do anything. Josephine and Aisha, and all those other women—” The intense tightness in my throat cuts off the words abruptly.
Patrick scoots up to sit beside me, and wraps me in a hug. “I don’t know, but hopefully not much longer,” he says, and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “It is awful to wait, but there’s not much else we can do for now. I’ve been racking my brain trying to come up with a way to get us safely out of here and figure out where we’d even go. And my dad—what do I tell him? Should I tell him?” His arm tightens reflexively.
I can tell how much he hates the idea of his dad having any part of this evil, but as the prime minister, we can’t rule out his involvement. “I know, Patrick. Somebody authorized this, though, and unfortunately until we figure out who, we can’t risk it.” I hesitate, hating to be a hypocrite, but needing to say the thing nagging at my brain. I still want to tell Peter.
He sighs. “I know, you’re right, but I can’t believe he would have anything to do with this. My dad wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and a section is now sticking straight up.
With a giggle, I zhuzh it until it lays back down. His crooked grin in response is enough to make my heart melt into a puddle. Guilt stabs at me instantly—it’s not right to be happy, when we know what we do.
He must sense my quicksilver mood change, because he nudges me with his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Sadie? You never did say.”
“It’s Aisha.”
“You mentioned her name before, but I don’t know her. Was she one of the women we found?”
I nod and rest my chin on my knees.
“Was there something in particular about her that’s bothering you?” he asks.
“I forgot to tell you, right after. But, I knew her. From home.” The words don’t want to come out, but the fear and pain don’t want to stay bottled up inside anymore.
“I didn’t realize. That must make this even harder for you—the waiting.” He brushes a wisp of my hair back from my face so he can see me better.
I nod, the sharp stab in my chest agreeing with him. “She didn’t want to go. She waited, like me. Came at the last minute, and they told her parents she was dead. Died delivering a baby boy, and that they couldn’t adopt him. They gave the baby away to a couple in the adoption program, and her parents got . . . nothing. Not her, not the baby, nothing but a letter full of lies.”
He makes an angry sound, low in his throat.
“It could just as easily have been me, Patrick. Lying in that bed, pregnant against my will, and drugged up. She came from my town, rode the same shuttle, for Pete’s sake. She probably even met Todd.” I sit up now, my anger taking over the fear that threatens to consume me. “She’s been gone for years. Years of her life eaten up, and she doesn’t even know. Even if we somehow figure out a way to stop this, Patrick, that’s irrevocable. We can’t give her those years back. And, Lord have mercy, the babies.” The emotions finally win, and tears begin to trail down my cheeks. I choke on a sob, my futile attempt to hold it in failing.
Patrick pulls me into his chest and rests his chin atop my head. He holds me tightly, but doesn’t say anything.
“She’s had four babies, Patrick. Four. She has four children out there being raised by unknowing strangers. They don’t even know she’s alive. If we expose this, free these women, waking them up isn’t going to be a kindness. We’re going to wake them up, and have to tell them something that’s going to destroy them.” The last bit is hardly above a whisper. The reality is so ugly, so cruel, I can barely voice it into this world.
I sob into his chest, my heart shattered to pieces for all of the innocent lives that have been irreversibly altered by this horrendous place. He holds me until I’ve cried myself out, not complaining about the mess I’ve made of his t-shirt, or the fact that I didn’t even let him out of bed yet. His slow, soothing strokes of my hair eventually ground me, bringing me back to the present moment. I slowly sit up, and wipe the tears from my cheeks.
When I lock eyes with him, his expression is so cold, it’s almost scary. “What is it, Patrick? What are you thinking?”
“Someone is going to be held accountable for what’s been done to them, Sadie. I swear it. I will do everything in my power to make this right. We can’t give them back the years they lost, no. But we can find their children, we can wake them up, and we can help them start over. We can tear this place apart, and make sure it never happens again.” His voice is fierce, and the menacing intent gives me goosebumps as he cups my cheek in his hand.
“Thank you, Patrick. Thank you for helping make this right.” Tears well up again, but this time, it’s gratitude. Gratitude that even though I never intended to have a match like Patrick, he’s the right man to tackle this problem with me.
“Don’t thank me, Sadie. It’s the right thing to do—what anyone should do.” His jaw is set in grim determination, and I can tell he’s questioning his father’s involvement again.
It’s my turn to reassure him, so I lay a hand on his shoulder. The tension I feel could snap a branch. “Patrick, I am sure when we find out who is doing this, it’s not going to be your dad. We will figure it out as soon as we can, and then we’ll let him help us fix this. Surely he’s in a position to help make this right, as quickly as possible.”
His shoulders sag almost imperceptibly under my touch. “I hope you’re right.”
“I’m right. Now, what do you say we go get some breakfast? I’m starving. Also, we have a urine sample to deliver.” I roll my eyes, which draws a chuckle out of him.
✽✽✽
Breakfast, as always, is delicious. The wait staff have become accustomed to our preferences now, so most things, we don’t even have to ask for. Peter joins us, and Martinez hovers in the doorway, looking bored. I’ve just leaned back from the table, rubbing my very full stomach when Peter changes the subject abruptly.
“So, are you two ready for your outin
g today?” he asks, and wags his eyebrows at us.
“What outing? It’s not more hiking, is it?” I look at Patrick, feeling cold even thinking about hiking in this weather. It’s gray and gloomy outside, with whipping wind.
“Peter, my man, you’re killing my surprise here,” Patrick complains, but doesn’t sound angry. He shoots an exaggerated cut-it-out look at Peter before addressing me. “Sadie, I scheduled something new to get your mind off of things. We’ve got a shuttle to catch, as soon as we’re done with breakfast.”
I lean forward, interest piqued. “What kind of outing are we talking about? You have to tell me, I hate surprises!”
He shakes his head stubbornly. “No way, no how. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Oh, come on! Peter knows! How is that fair?”
His grin is devious. “Peter has to know, to make sure it’s safe before we leave the property. You’ll find out when we get there.”
“Ugh, fine. Well, let’s go now, then. I’m done. You’re done, too.” I gesture at his empty plate.
“Not yet, I still have half my coffee left!” He gestures to one of the staff for a refill, but I wave them away before they take two steps in our direction.
“No way! You torture me with a surprise, you don’t get extra coffee. Peter, you should go call Todd. We’re ready.”
Peter laughs, but doesn’t budge. “Ahh, baby sister. Torturing you never gets old.” His grin is the biggest I’ve seen it since the first day he got here.
“Peter, you cannot be on his side. You’re my brother, for Pete’s sake. Come on! Where is your family loyalty?” I cross my arms over my chest.
He shrugs noncommittally. “Patrick’s a good guy. He’s grown on me.”
“Well, if you’re not on my side anymore, I guess next time I see Mom I’ll have to tell her about the time that Nancy Locken grew on you your senior year. I feel like that story still has the shock factor, no matter when it comes out.”
