“I won’t abandon you,” she whispered, “either of you.”
“Words are easy. Time will tell if you mean them.” I headed toward the nursery with Pip. “Your quarters are at the end of theeast wing, third door on the left. Dinner is at six. I cook since Pip’s schedule makes ordering from town impractical. I hope you are not a vegetarian. My skills are limited to meat-based dishes.”
“I’m not vegetarian, but I do love vegetables.”
I paused at the nursery door. “Danielle? Thank you for not running. It is more than the others gave me.”
“Thank you for hiring me despite the lies. And for giving me a chance.”
“We are both taking chances,” I said. “Let us hope we both chose well.”
I closed the nursery door and settled Pip for her afternoon walk while cuddled to my chest. Through the door, I heard Danielle’s footsteps retreating down the hall.
She hadn’t run. Not yet.
Maybe this time would be different.
Maybe this time someone would stay.
Chapter 4
Dani
Andrek’sstudywasdimmerthan the rest of the house, the lighting panels set to a soft amber glow that reminded me of sunset. Or maybe that was just my brain trying to make sense of alien lighting. I sat in the chair across from his desk. It was too tall and the bottom shifted too far back, in an Adirondack-style, for my human proportions, leaving my knees at an awkward angle, my feet unable to touch the ground. I felt like a child called to the principal’s office.
Except I wasn’t a child anymore, and this wasn’t school.
This was my life now. Or it could be, if I didn’t screw it up in the next few minutes.
Andrek settled into his own chair with the fluid grace I didn’t expect of a Torzi. His tail curled around the base of the seat, and his eyes fixed on me. The intensity in them made my skin prickle. He wasn’t threatening, but it seemed as if he staredinto my soul. I wanted to squirm, but I managed to maintain composure.
“Yesterday,” he began, his voice measured, “your application told me you had the qualifications. I assumed based on that you understood what this position entailed. Today, holding Pip, you are proving yourself. I hope this is an indication of what is to come.”
Heat flooded my face from his praise.Well then. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.
“I’m adjusting,” I said, trying to keep my voice level and calm my racing heart. “It’s a lot to take in and learn, but I promise I'll do my best by you and Pip.”
“I believe you truly mean that. Tell me about your life on Earth. I have never been.”
What should I say?I debated as I looked down at my hands, twisted together in my lap. The nail polish I’d put on the day before I left Earth, a deep wine red that my mother had called ‘too dramatic’, had chipped. Everything from my old life, much like the polish, flaked away.
“I said before on the tarmac. Because I needed to be free.”
My voice broke on the last word, splintering as I held back a sob. I hated to sound small and weak.
Andrek didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed, and he waited for me to continue. The silence stretched, but I didn’t sense hostility, more of a curiosity.
“On Earth,” I started, then stopped.How did you explain an entire world, a complete system of control, to someone who’d never lived under it?“On Earth, they watch everything. Our every movement gets recorded somewhere. Every transaction you make, every place you go, every person you talk to. They track it all. Record it all.” I forced myself to look up at him. “They call it safety. Security and protection from threats. It started decades ago after the invasion. But when you grow up knowingthat everything you do is being observed and catalogued and analyzed... it doesn’t feel like safety. It feels like suffocation.”
His tail swished once, and his face took on a contemplative look. “But surely many humans live contentedly under such conditions?”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Contentedly? Doubtful. I would say more of compliance. When you’ve never known anything different, when everyone around you accepts things as normal, it’s easier to go along with it.” I rubbed my face, trying to organize my thoughts. “My parents loved it. They thought it made them good and responsible citizens. I grew up with phrases like ‘if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.’”
“But you had something to hide,” Andrek said, his voice low.
“In a sense.”
“How so?”
