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“At the dog obedience class.”
“Yes.”
“Were you there as a spy? As part of your job?”
I can’t answer that truthfully.
I want to, but I can’t.
“I was very fortunate to find you there,” is all I say as she moves closer to me, breathing hard, eyes fixed on mine. Earlier, she changed out of the pink flannel pajamas into a simple dress, one that flows around her hips, the edges skimming her calves. It’s a pale heathered purple and makes her face look like the sun.
A sun I could kiss forever.
“If I were lying, I would have fucked you.”
She flinches at the vulgarity but stays quiet.
“I would have taken advantage and ruined you. Once you’re no longer a virgin, they don’t want you.”
“Who is they, then? If it’s all a lie, and you say the masters, The Mother – all of them – are part of a lie, whatfor?” She walks right up to me, finger in my face, standing on tiptoes, her anger justified and oh, how I want to tell her.
It will destroy her to know the truth.
It will destroy her not to know, too.
“Because you are one of the chosen ones.”
“What does that mean? First it’s all a lie, and now you say I’m one of the chosen ones? Not the chosen one?”
“Do you remember joining Rooney’s church when you were younger and spitting in a tube for a DNA test?”
She frowns. “Yes.”
“And after that, you were told about the prophecy? How you were special?”
“It was a genetic test. Something about finding out our ancestry.”
“You were being harvested.”
“Being what?”
“It’s all an elaborate, complicated scheme, Paigelynn. Wealthy billionaires with bad kidneys and livers are using churches like Rooney’s to rope unsuspecting families into them. Get them to spit in a tube. Find donor matches.”
“Donors? As in organ donors?”
“Yes.”
“What does that have to do with the prophecy?”
She’s smart. I don’t have to say another word. As blood drains out of her face and her eyes fill with a horror that makes me regret telling her, she connects the grotesque dots all on her own.
I may be killed for telling her – and there’s more than enough surveillance in here for people to know I told her, but I no longer care.
People deserve to know the truth about their bodies.
Their origins.
Their genes.
