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don’t eat, right? It had worked so far. I made my way outside into the sunset and the warmth that never seemed to reach far enough into my skin.
    Sonnet stormed out the door, slamming it behind her. “You almost made me late, Seven.”
    “I didn’t do anything to you. And we’re not late.”
    “You hogged Zara and we most certainly will be late.” Her accusation didn’t bother me. Once you’d heard something for so long, you learned to let it roll off your back. And Sonnet always had something to complain about, particularly when it came to me. It was as if my breathing had somehow become a burden to her.
    With a huff, Sonnet lifted her skirts higher, making her way around the back of the black, idling car. She stuffed her frills inside and shut the door before I even reached my side, which was closer. If Mother didn’t want me to embarrass her, she should have chosen shorter heels. These were a disaster waiting to happen.
    I eased into the back seat beside my sister, who refused to look in my direction, and then closed the door. Watching the familiar scenery pass as we left my home behind us, I let my mind drift. The streets nearing the auditorium were crowded with people who were crossing and entering the building. We’d been given strict instructions to wait until the vehicle pulled up in front of the doors, but Sonnet was impatient. She grumbled, cursed and finally opened the door, leaving me to sit alone in the car as she stomped a path up the sidewalk.
    I waited, per Mother’s instruction.
    When the driver eased the vehicle up to the front walkway of the auditorium, I thanked him and stepped onto the walk, making my way between the parting seas of citizens. Most gawked. Some stared. Most had heard the rumors of Elect Anderson’s dying daughter but had never seen me in person before. It was awkward, uncomfortable, and ultimately left me crawling in my skin. But I pressed my shoulders back and plastered on the smile that my parents expected. It was time to choose a companion, but tonight the choice would be mine. And that made my smile morph into a genuine one.
    The interior of the building was dimly lit, the last of the sun’s rays filtering in and blanching the vibrant, red-carpeted floors. To most, this was entertainment—a show of sorts. Which member of the Elite would choose a companion and which one would they choose? Bets were taken on less.
    If my father were a betting man, he would lay money on the fact that I would choose a meek girl, a quiet girl, someone that I might enjoy talking with. Perhaps she would be someone who would help me in the coming weeks and months, as the sands of time dwindled down to naught.
    But I had other plans. And if my father was a betting man, I would cost him a lot of money tonight—not only for the companion fee, but because I planned to choose the exact opposite of his expectation. I wanted to show him that he couldn’t manipulate everything. He’d given me free reign to choose and choose I would.
    My mother was in a tizzy over Sonnet’s solo entrance. And Sonnet was a sweaty, hot mess. Her hair was now limp and plastered to her forehead. No doubt the heat outside and her inability to sit still for the five minutes it took for the car to pull up to the curb had made for quite the walk through the streets.
    Gracefully, I made my way down the row that parted the two sections of ruby-colored, upholstered chairs to the front row where my parents and sister waited for me. My father was first on the end. A seat had been left empty for me on his right, and my sister would be seated beside me. Sonnet glowered as I approached, while Mother fretted on her right at the end.
    Sonnet growled when I gingerly took my seat. I could hear the whispers behind me.
    “Elect Anderson will take a companion for his ill daughter…”
    “She’s dying…”
    “She looks good for someone who is terminal…”
    Well, at least there was that. I did look good tonight. And I planned to