Read Unworthy: Marked to die. Raised to survive. for Free Online Page A

were only a few girls who would talk to me at school, most preferring instead to keep their distance, as though my weakness could somehow be caught. But after the baby’s death, and Marnia’s grief turned into anger, everything got worse.
    Marnia suddenly grabs my wrist and twists it upwards. “The mark of the Unworthy, the weak, the cursed!” Her voice rises with each accusation, her fingers digging into my skin. She leans in close, her nose inches from mine. Her next words are venomous. “How did you survive, when he couldn’t?”
    My eyes are locked onto hers. Her gaze has me frozen. I cannot look away and I cannot move. But I have no answer for her. For the last four years, in my worst nightmares I have asked myself this same question.

    Chapter Five
    Marnia’s white lips begin to tremble. All the bluster leaves her, and she sags. “He was perfect,” she says, her voice thin. “He was perfect.” She drops my wrist and steps back. She is as white as a sheet as Totara guides her away from me.
    The doctor has returned to the room along with Chloe holding the baby, and they are looking at us. He looks rather alarmed, and who can blame him? I’m sure he’s wondering what kind of strange traditions this hub has. He recovers his composure quickly, and announces the good news. There will be no baby for me to guard tomorrow night.
    I make a break for the door while he has everyone’s attention. Outside in the square, I release the breath I have been holding onto so desperately.
    Strong, warm arms encircle me, and Bastian is holding me tightly against him. I’m shaking and I can’t stop. He doesn’t say anything, just stands and holds me. We move together out of the lit square and begin walking back to my pod in the shadows.
    “Do you ever think about leaving?” I whisper.
    He pauses for a minute. “Leaving Greytown… going where?” he prods.
    “I don’t really know. Just… anywhere. Maybe another hub. Or just getting away and looking after yourself.”
    “Why would you want to leave? Survival out there is next to impossible. It’s not perfect, but it is easy here.”
    “Easy for you maybe. Easy for everyone. But for me… I just want to go somewhere my Mark doesn’t mean anything. Somewhere I can just be normal, and not stand out.”
    He’s silent for a while, thinking about what I’m suggesting. As Firstborn, things are a little more complicated for him, because he has a commitment to the Polis. The idea of leaving for the bush is dangerous, and I know it. The punishment for desertion is execution.
    “Have you really thought about this, Arcadia? What you’re suggesting?”
    “Bastian, every time a baby’s born I think about it! I don’t want to live like this!” The rush of words comes to me unbidden, the heat in them from my core. Suddenly it feels so important to me that he understands my point of view. I stab at the cross on my wrist. “I’ll always be different, and now I’m some kind of a witch as well? I sap the life out of healthy babies just because I can…”
    He grabs my clenched fists and pulls them back down to my sides. “Calm down, Arcadia. It’s okay, you’re okay. Those women… they’re stupid, superstitious people.”
    I concentrate on breathing in and breathing out. “I’m sorry. I hate… this. I hate all of this. It’s too hard.”
    “But leaving… is that the solution?”
    “And now you sound like Grandad…” We are nearly at my pod now, and the thought of my sole family member makes me sigh. “I couldn’t leave Grandad,” I say, and I catch Bastian nodding. He’d known that all along.
    Early the next morning I’m helping in the milking shed. I’m grateful for the distraction which the milking brings. The cows don’t whisper when they think I can’t hear them, and they don’t regard me suspiciously out of the corners of their eyes. Cheesemaking is another matter. I try to ignore the other women as I go through the motions, preparing the day’s vat