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wandered back into the room, gently dabbing her wet wrist with a towel. “I think it's stopped. What am I wearing then?”
    Maeve handed her the dress, and Topley scowled at it. She changed quickly, and dipped into an exaggerated curtsey.
    “You look beautiful,” Maeve said, fighting back a giggle.
    “This better be worth it.”
    Hand in hand, the girls ran down the stairs, through the bakery, and out onto the street below.
    “Mum and dad are going to ask what I was doing in a dress,” Topley said as they slowed.
    “They'll be too overjoyed to question it.” Maeve laughed. “Come on.”
    They dodged their way down the busy street, skipping between the wooden walkways. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they stopped.
    The stairs were carved straight into the rock, in places there was space for three people to walk abreast, in others, it was single file only. There were places where the rock overhung the steps, and people were forced to stoop. The uneven steps had been roughly carved by hand, and the millions of feet using them had worn them unevenly smooth. Some tilted towards the cliff, others towards the drop. Many were hollowed out, like basins, where the rainwater collected to go stagnant. Several people had fallen to their deaths from these steps, commonly from trying to push their way through, foolishly thinking that their journey was more important than anyone else's. An ingrained knowledge of Falside's social order was necessary to survive the climb.
    The steps were deep, and the climb was hard in a long skirt. By the time they reached the top, Maeve's breathing was ragged, and she could hear Topley breathing hard behind her.
    “Alright?” Maeve asked.
    Topley nodded, catching her breath. “A bit light-headed.”
    “You need to get your blood sugar levels up.” Maeve pulled a bundle of credits from her pocket. “A lot of Uncle Lou's customers pays him with credits, but he doesn't put them through the books. He uses them to pay for his extracurricular activities down at The Slip. So he never knows exactly how many he has.” She shrugged. “Want to see the screen?”
    “Why not?”
    Maeve led Topley up The Downs, around to Inlet Road, and into the expanse of The Hide.
    The large square was bright and busy, but it had that casual air, as if everyone were on holiday. No one was hurrying, or shouting. People lounged at tables outside cafés, they gathered on benches to chat, they strolled, slowly, past the central fountain. No one here had anywhere they needed to be.
    The gender disparity was obvious. Despite The Hope housing only Falside's single women, they were greatly outnumbered by men. Men came here to look over the women. To choose one. Like cattle.
    The ferocity of their stares was almost physical, and Maeve felt their gaze like hands. Topley seemed oblivious to the uninvited attention, as she gawked at the screen.
    Attached to the front of the buildings on the eastern side of the square, it was three storeys high, tilted towards the people below. It had always made Maeve a little nervous; she couldn't help but imagine it coming loose from its brackets, and crushing the people beneath it.
    Most of the time it played advertisements, carefully chosen by the administration to remind the women of their duty to Falside. But once a month, everyone gathered here for the announcement of the wedding banns. This was the first time the bride would learn of her impending matrimony. The fountain had been installed specifically to revive women who fainted at the news.
    Today it announced the birth of a baby girl; a rare event. A couple from Haverhead grinned at the camera, cradling their baby wrapped in a bright pink blanket. Another image showed them drinking champagne. It was the only time women were allowed to drink, for fear it might affect their fertility. Broad smiles to disguise their empty eyes. A manufactured image of a family who had fulfilled their ultimate duty.
    And constantly reeling across