First To Be Last

7. Or Not?

DAMN THIS DAY.

"The day we do it"
"The day we become respectable"
"The day we get legal"
"The day we take down Billy Kimber"

It had so many events, Thea didn't bother to count them. She had heard them all at breakfast, when her brother, Tommy, rudely interrupted her aunt's prayer by barging into the room.

The girl had heard the same prayer over and over while the boys were away, and once she got older, Polly made her say it as well. Today was no exception.

She, too, had a rosemary between her fingers, accidentally embroidering them with it. Dorothy, unlike the elder woman, stopped immediately as she heard the door open. She could recognize her brother's footsteps, as well as his peace of walk. The girl's eyes widened as she heard Thomas get closer, in a sign for Polly to stop whatever nonsense she was mumbling. But she didn't, making Tommy stop behind her to listen.

"And watch Thomas. I know how he is, but he does what he does for us.. I think."

Dorothea sipped at her cereal until her aunt gave her a stern look. "Amen" She voiced, struggling to not spit any of the milk out.

"We used to do that every morning during the war. Hoped we'd done it for the last time." Polly said, turning to look at the man. It was so early, he was already up for the day. Thea could only look at the two adults, for she had no idea what was happening in this family anymore.

"Today will be the last time, Pol. After today, there'll be no need for prayers. We'll be set." Tommy answered, shooting a quick glance at his sister before announcing, "Family meeting, half ten."

The Shelby girl knew what it meant—No need for her to be there.

When the two women were left alone, Polly suddenly started to dictate Dorothea's program for the day to come "Thea, no ballet today. You come back here straight after hours."

"Aunt Pol, you know I can't—"

"You can and you will, don't make me keep you here all day. You tell that damned teacher of yours to have a talk with me if he is so upset with you. God knows, you're barely sleeping in this house nowadays, you could use a break."

With a huff, Dorothy complied to her aunt's request, staring at the remainder of her food. She wasn't going to finish it. Nor will she eat anything else until back home.

She wished she could lock herself up. High up in a tower, and let no one see her. Her weight was not the problem anymore, there was barely anything to loose, anyway, but she had been a rough child. Climbing trees, playing catch, falling on cobblestones, running barefoot through broken pieces of whatever could cut, you name it— she did it.

And the remainders of it were still visible.

Not only on her legs, but hips, arms, even on her stomach. And wearing a suit which barely covered half of her body certainly didn't help.

"I better be off, then."

DOROTHEA NEVER PARTICULARLY ENJOYED SCHOOL. It came easy to her, sure, but it was all so dull. She felt she could learn better on her own, between her own stacks of books.