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It’s one of the reasons I love Gretta so much. She’s never had any alliance except with herself, and I will always respect that, as I’m pretty much the same way.
“Two days!” Talis calls after me.
My steps falter, but I keep my gaze forward.Two days until what?I breathe out in frustration and turn the corner to Gretta’s apartment.
Just like me, she shares a house with others in Gronem, but hers is the picture of decadent – gold casting, gorgeously designed silver door handles, windows with flowing lace curtains peeking through them. She once asked me to move in with her after she saw where I lived, but I don’t belong in a fancy place like this. Maybe I don’t have a bed or even a mattress, but I have what I’ve earned, and I can pack up at a moment’s notice.
I ring the doorbell and wait a few minutes before Gretta pokes her head out a window from the second story.
Her brown curls are disheveled, her eyeliner smudged, but she wears a massive, glittering smile that speaks of exciting secrets. “I had a feeling that might be you,” she shouts down to me. “Get up here, you beautiful badass.”
I laugh and push inside, taking the stairs two at a time in giddiness. There’s always been something about speaking with Gretta that turns me into a twelve-year-old girl again – or, well, maybe anormaltwelve-year-old girl, considering I was paving my way up the ranks of the Underground back then.
Her door is open when I reach it. “Gretta?”
Gretta collides with me in an instant, hugging me close, and I sag into her, the tension in my body melting.
I made it clear to Gretta from the get-go that I have a reputation to uphold, so she’s never granted me hugs in public. In private, however, she’s always given the best ones.
We hold onto each other for a few minutes, and not for the first time, I wonder if this would be what having a sibling would be like. Someone I can count on. Someone who accepts all my flaws and still embraces me. A flame of rage flares through me with the knowledge that someonestolethat away from me. They took my family, tore my brother out of my arms. I hug Gretta tighter.
“Where’d you get off to last night?” she asks, stepping back as my squeeze becomes too much.
“I had a job,” I say, unable to give her much more.
Thankfully, that’s another thing Gretta has always understood. Sometimes, I give her juicy bits to satisfy her inner gossip, but mostly they’re details I know will bolster my reputation if she passes them along.
Gretta sighs and flops onto her massive bed. “Lie with me, Zora. I need someone to digest my sorrows.”
I settle onto the edge of the bed, then carefully lie next to her. “Did something happen?” I curve my body to face her, and she does the same.
Her eyes sparkle with sadness. “I lost your dress.”
“What?” I blurt and shoot up in immediate fury. “How?”
Gretta’s eyes water. “I’m so sorry. I took it off when things between Farrah and I got heated, but when I went to put it on again, someone had stolen it. I ended up wandering around in my slip most of the night.”
“Where was it stolen?” I demand.I need that dress.My stomach rumbles in agreement.
“We went up to the VIP booths,” she explains. She sits up and takes my hands. “I’m sorry, Zora. I know that was more than a dress for you.”
My cheeks redden in embarrassment, and I drag myself off the bed away from her. I’ve never been ashamed of my poverty, but I’ve never handled pity well.
“I’d like to give you something of mine,” Gretta says and hops down from her bed. She crosses to her closet and fishes around for a minute before she tugs free a stunning blood-red gown. “It’s the least I can do.”
“That dress looks worth ten times what mine had been,” I refuse.
Gretta shrugs. “I’ve never even worn it. I don’t have the curves for it, so I might as well give it to someone who deserves to wear it.”
“I can’t accept that gown, and I wouldn’t even be wearing it. I needed to sell my dress this morning,” I say, trying not to dive into the details of why.
Gretta’s brow furrows. “Well, I’m not going to give it to you if you aren’t at least going to enjoy it first.”
It is pretty, my desire betrays me. I may notneedanything more than I have, but dammit, I have a weak spot for the color red. The dress matches the color that bleeds from my enemies’ necks, and what’s more invigorating than that? Plus, it’s likely I’ll need a dress for my next job.
My fingers twitch with indecision, but something about my expression must give me away because Gretta’s face lights up.
“It will look so much better on you than it ever did on me,” she says, folding it neatly and passing it to me.
