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inappropriate and Madame Carla had raised her right. She wasn’t that kind of girl. “I need a shower.”
    “Now? Weren’t you just too tired to hang with the girls after the stories?” Verena repeated what she had just told Cina and Laila when they had asked if they wanted to join them for a late snack down in the kitchen. Apparently, it was something they did often after those celebrations.
    Marie understood why. Tomorrow could be the last day at Redfarm for some of them. Tomorrow could be the last day here for Verena. “You should’ve gone without me.”
    “I’m not in the mood.” Verena was at the desk, looking outside at the dark night. The roofs glinted under the moonlight.
    Marie saw a tear glide down Verena’s cheek, but the girl didn’t seem to notice it and let it fall on the desk where it landed heavily. Marie decided to follow Verena’s clue and pretended to have seen nothing. “You won’t be picked tomorrow. You’ll see.” She didn’t know why she felt the urge to say something she couldn’t possibly know, but the words were out already.
    “Thank you.” Verena turned to face her. “Go take your shower.”
    “Are you sure…?” Marie had always been clumsy with words and feelings. Now she felt useless and wanted nothing more than leave. Still, she had a conscience.
    “Sure. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone for a few minutes.” Verena’s eyes were already looking for a faraway place outside of the window.
    Marie exited the room in silence and went directly to the bathroom, her mind a chaos of discorded thoughts. She wondered what her roommate was thinking. She had never worried about the chance of being a donor. At the Institute, they never talked of such things. The mere topic was considered inappropriate conversation. But here, in the real world, fathered women were used to procreate men—the idea made her shiver, and by association, the recent memory of the intertwined couple popped in uninvited. Or maybe it had been there all along, eager to be acknowledged. She tried to push it away under a jet of cold water, but her body didn’t seem to cool down. She stayed there, blue extremities and racing heart. The way Carnia had leaned against Grant. The man’s bright green eyes. The surprise he showed at seeing her looking at them.
    What did you see, Grant? Did you recognize me? A strange fluttering broke havoc in her stomach. Marie couldn’t understand why she was asking herself such questions. She couldn’t understand why she recognized him so easily when he should’ve been just a nameless man to her. But as hard as she tried to divert her mind somewhere else, the image of Carnia cradled by Grant’s arms stood before her eyes long after her shower was done. She lay in bed, sleepless for hours. Flustered by the erratic directions her thoughts were heading without her consent, she finally decided to go downstairs and see if anyone was still around. Verena had left while Marie tried to wash away the day’s grime and hadn’t come back. Hoping to find her in the kitchen, Marie put on the first thing she found in the dim illumination provided by the small night-light by the door and went out again.
    The stairs were silent. Not a sound echoed from downstairs. Maybe they’re being quiet. Madame Lana couldn’t be aware of those impromptu parties. Madame Carla would have never authorized late-hour celebrations. The elders enforced curfew hours with great zeal. Unnerving silence accompanied Marie until she reached the kitchen and she knew before entering that the place was deserted. A single, forgotten lamp barely lit the large room. It scarcely illuminated the corner of the sink and the small area where someone had left a few dishes and mugs to dry. Not sure of what to do, she walked toward it and hit the leg of one of the tables in the middle of the room. The sudden, sharp pain made her curse out loud. Angry tears filled her eyes, but she refused to cry. Instead, she pulled a