Read The Brothers for Free Online Page A

“They know we need our rations.”
    Sabrina bristles. “We don’t have anything extra,” she says, taking a step forward. Her form would be intimidating anywhere but in this hospital. Here, all that matters are those taunting swirls of pink thread.
    Three pregnant girls glare at Sabrina. She glares back.
    “Nanny!” Brianne calls. She’s going to tell them we’ve stolen something, or worse, hurt one of them.
    “I have some lotions.” I walk to our shared dresser, open it, and dig to the bottom. Pulling out two tubes Nanny Bell smuggled for me, I offer them to the girls.
    Charlene strides forward, snatches the bottles, and hands them to Brianne. She looks them over and drops them in the pocket of her gown. “Generous of you, Janine.” Then her gaze shifts to Sabrina. “What’s your contribution to the cause, turtle?”
    Sabrina grinds her teeth. “I told you. I don’t have anything.”
    Brianne’s eyes float up to the two-inch pink ribbon circling Sabrina’s head. “That will do for now.”
    Sabrina begins to shake. Her hands curl into fists. I grab her arm.
    Slowly, painfully, Sabrina slides the pink ribbon off her head. What’s left of her dark hair, just tufts on a barren landscape, spikes up in its wake. She holds the ribbon in her fist. Brianne steps forward and snatches it. My hand is still firm on Sabrina’s arm. If she hits Brianne, a top producer, she’ll be put out for sure.
    Brianne steps back. Smirks. Inspects her new prize. “Thanks, turtle. This will look lovely on my new daughter’s head.” Charlene chuckles. Micha rubs her humongous stomach.
    When they turn and waddle out, Sabrina rips her arm from my grasp. It’s amazing how strong she is. How she could crush those girls if things were different. She storms to our door and slams it so hard the walls rattle. Then she turns and begins pacing the length of our room.
    “I swear to all that is holy, if I get my hands on that girl—”
    “Sabrina,” I say, holding my hands out. She strides to me, frowns, swivels, and stomps back the other way.
    “They think they’re so special. Well, I’ve got some news for you. Anyone with a uterus can push out a baby. Dogs have babies! Pigs!” Sabrina throws the words at the door like punches. Tears spill from the cracks of her dark, almond-shaped eyes.
    “They’ll hear you,” I say, flicking glances between the door’s little window and the camera. “You’ll get bathroom duty. Or worse.”
    Sabrina grabs a pillow, pushes it to her face, and screams. Screams and screams and screams.
    Good idea , I think. Inside, I’m screaming, too.
    When she’s empty of screams, she lifts her red, tear-streaked face. I sit beside her and run my hand down her back. I smooth lone strands of her hair over her soft scalp and for a moment, I’m gripped by the reality that I may never do this for a child of my own.
    “How can you be so calm?” Sabrina asks, her face smooshed into the pillow.
    I wipe a tear from her cheek. “I don’t care if they take my things.”
    Sabrina blows a dismissive breath into her pillow. “They love it. They love that they can get away with this.”
    “It helps to imagine what their stomachs look like. Brianne’s had eight births. It’s gotta look like cottage cheese.”
    Sabrina smiles. “Like saggy pizza dough.”
    “Like a bread roll left in the drainage ditch for six months.”
    Sabrina’s face grows serious. “I wouldn’t make it without you, Jan. I mean it. Don’t ever leave.”
    ***
    We eat fish.
    Fried fish, grilled fish, baked fish. We eat so much fish that sometimes I wonder if we’ll form gills. Glub, glub, glub , Sabrina and I joke. With tanks in the compound outside, fish is one of the only protein sources that the hospital can sustain. Tonight is Tilapia, which I can barely stomach since Francis from B Hall told me they eat fish poop.
    Sabrina picks at her food, taking the time to run her hand over her naked head every few minutes. When her eyes flick to