Page 31 of Midnight Curfew

I try to focus on the transparent colors, the rain and clouds looking pretty through this lens of purple and red, but all I feel is him somewhere behind me and how this is none of his business.

“Let’s go,” I tell her.

But she still looks up at me expectantly.

I soften my eyes, noting the streaks of paint on her shirt. “Anna-Katherine,” I whisper, calling her the name she prefers.

Please, let’s go, I beg with my eyes.

She gives me a small smile and caps her paints, sticking her brush in a cup of water. Hopping down from the windowsill, she walks to a desk and grabs her backpack.

I turn to Dallas. “She’s mine.”

“She’s so lucky,” he mocks.

Then he fixes his attention on her. “See you later, AK-47.”

She giggles and spins around, playing with the strap of her bag, which she now wears on her shoulders.

It doesn’t take me long to figure out what the name means. AK for Anna-Katherine.

Taking her hand, I walk us out. “You have a good night,” I tell him as we go. “I think the party will be in St. Carmen this time.”

I catch the falter in his brow as confusion sets in over my meaning, but he’ll find out tonight.

6

Dallas

I think the party will be in St. Carmen this time?

What the hell did that mean?

Did he think it was symbolic or some shit to say almost the exact same thing I said to him when I dared him to come over to the Bay years ago?

And what the fuck…

Why do I remember that?

He has no real power. They need our workers, and whether he’ll admit it or not, he wants me in his path. He knows it wouldn’t be hard for me to pack up and disappear. I give a shit about my family, but they’d be fine without me. Does he want me gone? Because I don’t give a shit either way.

I shove my leg into the last desk, pushing it into place.

He’d better back off.

Him and the Ministry.

I walk around the room, blowing out Anna-Katherine’s candles. We’d lit them when the power glitched, and when the lights came back on, we’d just kept the flames going. I needed more light—I had things to do on my computer—but she just seemed so content to paint like that. I blew off some essential work and took care of other things instead, both of us moving in silence.

I never wanted her here. Callum’s sister would eventually bring him, and although the prospect of having a way to fuck with him piqued my interest, I didn’t want to get distracted.

But her mother volunteered at the school, fulfilling a presence for her husband as an alumnus even though she wasn’t one. She organized functions for the boosters, booked the senior trips, and helped recruit, and since she didn’t want her daughter left alone at home, Anna-Katherine came with her mother. She started running errands for the office, helped serve concessions at games, and designed bulletin boards, not only for teachers, but in the hallways and front office as well.

Last year when I started teaching, she found my room one day and started spending most of her time here. I’m not sure why. Probably because I let her do whatever she wants. Is she supposed to paint on the windows? Probably not, but I don’t mind, and I don’t think they’ll say anything, because of who her family is.

I never found out what happened to her. I never asked anyone. I’d seen her around St. Carmen growing up. She always acted the same age as her friends, and there was never anything to raise suspicion, until one day when she was around sixteen her demeanor regressed to that of a child, they said.

And it was clear she didn’t like to hear the name Sophia anymore.