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There are plenty of warnings buried in the legal language. Specific enough to require her consent. Vague enough to keep her ignorant.
Her fingers hover above the folder before she opens it, shifting the papers softly inside. I watch her scan each page, trying to make sense of the words. Steady at first. Then it slows.
A pause.
Her shoulders tighten as her brow furrows.
“What does this mean?” She points to the line, expecting me to say it for her.
I don’t move. “It means exactly what it says.”
She glances up at me sharply. “That’s not helpful.” Her jaw tightens before she looks back down. “Physical endurance,” she reads under her breath. “Required conditions and…” She falters. “State of undress.”
I let the silence sit before answering.
“You’ll do what you’re told.”
“Told by who?”
“Me.”
Her fingers press into the paper, holding it in place like it might slither away otherwise.
“So I’ll just be your slave?”
“That’s a strange way of looking at your path to freedom.” I walk around the desk to stand over her shoulder. “All you’re required to do is participate in the Trials. If you want Asher’s killer dead, that is.”
“But what happens in them?”
I run my fingertips up her arm and brush back her hair. “It’s against the rules for Aspirants to know. It’s nothing you can’t handle. Trust me on that.”
She huffs a quiet laugh. Then she points to another line on the paper. “Failure to succeed will result in termination.” She twists to look up at me. “Termination of the contract? That means you won’t kill Asher’s murderer if I don’t win?”
The grin I’d been sporting at her irritation fades.
“That’s nothing to worry about. Just legal disclaimers included by our lawyers.”
She sighs. “None of this seems very fair.”
“You’re old enough to know life isn’t fair.”
She turns slowly to glare up at me. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”
My eyebrow raises. “I would never.” I pick up the pen next to her and place it in her grip. “Sign so we can move on.”
“Asher wouldn’t want this.”
I step around to the other side of the desk.
“He didn’t expect to die when he gave you that medallion. He thought he could get you out of your parents’ house for a small exchange.” I wait until she makes eye contact. “But he’s dead, Zaiya, and you’re fucked on your own. Luckily, you have me. I’m going to protect you. I’m going to take care of you. All you have to do is trust me.”
She stares into my eyes, reading them like a lie detector. Then she looks back at the contract and reads it over again. Her breathing evens out as she moves through it, like she’s steadying herself inside the decision.
She takes the pen, but doesn't lower it to the page. She only stares at the empty line waiting for her name.
The tip of the pen presses into the paper, and my heart squeezes. There’s a brief pause, the last fragile breath before the door shuts behind her.
And then she signs her name.
