I pulled on my threadbare scarf under the oversized jacket I’d gotten at a discount store, trying to figure out what any part of that sentence meant.
“Can you read and articulate your thoughts?” she continued before I could ask about my clothing.
I had no idea what ‘articulate your thoughts’ meant, but based on the pairing with ‘read,’ I assumed it was either writing or speaking, both of which I could do. I answered yes.
“Good, then we can skip all of that. No scheduling is done until your knowledge is assessed.” She pursed her lips. “You’ll have a few days to settle before your work-study begins.” Her face hardened. “Despite the Architect's interest in you, if you don’t show up for your work-study, you’ll be forced to leave. This is not a school, but a community. Everyone pulls their weight. You’ll do unskilled labor until we can assess your strengths and place you in a more fitting role.”
“I understand.” I put my hands up. I hadn’t said anything to make her defensive, that I knew of. “I’m grateful to have a place to stay with women running things so smoothly.”
Hope beamed; the pride she took in the Architect’s Castle was evident on her face. I smiled, hoping I didn’t come across as sarcastic.
“Brody!” Hope said, unnecessarily raising her voice. “Tour time, then gethimkeyed intohisroom.” Hopewinked at me.
He? I raised an eyebrow before remembering the chancellor’s comment about keeping my gender close to my chest. Interesting. There was a meeting about me. My gender must not have been on my paperwork either, if Hope wasn’t worried about Angela.
My mood fell. I wasn’t a good actor. It’s why I lay in the hospital getting a lobotomy instead of putting on a mask and ignoring my issues.
A tear threatened to fall, and I brushed it away. I’d tried so hard to be normal. To make my dad happy and function in society. Brain surgery was our last option; I had to trust Doctor Oz knew what he was doing. I needed to survive this gauntlet my subconscious pushed me into.
“At the moment, you don’t have a roommate,” Hope continued. “But expect that to change. Our family facilitates the mixing of people, regardless of power or wealth. Your place here will be based on skill alone.”
I wrinkled my nose. Being a ‘Moore’ had already let Angela get away with breaking and entering.
“Brody will explain everything else you might need to know.” Hope smiled. “Welcome to the family.”
Brody stood a few inches above my height and couldn’t be more than sixteen, based on both his looks and his lack of spatial awareness. He clearly didn’t want to be giving me a tour when he could be blowing off steam anywhere else.
The fog had eased a bit, leaving the world damp. We once again stopped in the middle of a walkway, forcing a man to scoot around usto continue walking in the opposite direction. I was pretty sure Brody hadn’t noticed the other man existed.
“What’s that building?” Brody asked me, pointing at the chiseled writing above the door.
I sighed and read the sign out loud. “Alchemy Lab.”
Brody gave me a patronizing grin. “All the buildings are named after their function, from AT, of course.”
I had no idea what AT meant, and based on his already pointing fingers, Brody wasn’t going to slow down to explain.
“And everyone in uniform is either a trainee or working. You can only wear street clothes when you’re off duty.” Brody wagged his finger as if I hadn’t been able to spot the middle-aged man in simple gray pants and a wool sweater. He scowled at Brody’s finger and hurried out of view.
“Wouldn’t it be better to point out the people in uniform, so I knew what they represented?” I asked.
Brody looked at me like I was an idiot.
“Blacks are enforcers. Brown and tan are trainees, fresh meat, or those who have already begun their training. Some other tunic colors indicate specific functions in the castle; you’ll figure it out.” He hurried forward, and I trailed after him.
Earlier, someone in denim overalls had disappeared into a foreboding building, which Brody claimed was the library, though it looked more like the doors to an underground prison. He hadn’t filled me in on what that person did either.
I opened my mouth to ask, but noise was already coming out of his mouth again. “I shouldn’t have to work today,” he grumbled. “You’ve messed up my entire day.”
I wrinkled my nose and refused to feel guilty. Brody, the person, didn’t exist, and this wasn’t my fault. “Welp, sorry to hear that?”
We rounded a corner as a body flew toward me. I barely managed to sidestep. The sound of a woman screaming pulled my attention to the center of an alley. Phantom crying filled my ears, and I immediately started shaking. A memory of something that never happened tried to fight to the surface. The weight of shackles dragged down my arms, and a cold collar burned my throat.
The woman in the center of the alley changed from a scream to a joyous whoop. Whatever PTSD shenanigans Miss Q had been trying to pull me into ended. I studied the scene and found the woman grinning from ear to ear as she held out a powerful, muscled arm to block one of her attackers. A long scar ran across her face, disappearing into her pixie cut of thick, moss-green hair.
“Get her!” Brody cheered.
I shot a look at Brody before pumping my fist in the air. “You go, girl! Kick their asses.”
