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Knotty reading!
It's not enough. It never is.
I clutch the top of the bag in my fist, holding it closed despite the strap crossed over my shoulder. If I don't guard it carefully, pickpockets will snatch up the meager contents. The chaos of the street surrounds me, but I keep my feet on the path I always take on Tuesday afternoons.
Skirting around the barefoot gang of boys kicking the ball of garbage back and forth, I hurry down the street toward the hut I've lived in my entire life. Before I take the last turn, I glance over my shoulder and make sure no one's following me.
I don't expect anyone to be, but old habits die hard. Even with my bag mostly empty, there's always the threat of getting jumped for the contents.
Off on the horizon, the old city buildings tower above the crowd of huts, a dark stain left by our ancestors. Only the worst type of businesses remain within the decaying city limits.
My babu visits there often. Not by choice, but because mouths require food, and he has many to fill.
My throat scratches as I swallow, the dry air and lack of water a constant drain on my energy, but I push through the discomfort and finish the trek home.
Peering through the open window, I breathe a sigh of relief as I count four little heads and hear my mother's soft singing. After moving the curtain just enough to slide through the front doorway, I make sure it closes behind me so the sun doesn't heat the air of the entryway.
"Kezzie, you home!"
I slide the bag to the small of my back and squat down, opening my arms for the incoming hugs. Two tiny arms wrap around my chest and give a slight squeeze—my sister Jestu is always the first to greet me when I get back home. At four years old, she still holds an exuberance for life and more energy than the rest of us combined. I tighten my arms around her and bury my nose in her braids, filling my nostrils with her scent.
She wiggles out of my embrace and pulls her twin, Jutin, into the space she just occupied. I trail my fingers down the side of his face and kiss his forehead, respecting his preferred physical boundaries. His clear blue eyes stand out against our dark flesh, the power and knowledge resting within just waiting for the day when his body transitions into adulthood. Wiser and more sedate than any child has a reason to be, he graces me with a small smile before turning and grabbing Jestu's hand. He drags her away, knowing she'll never let me pass deeper into the house if he doesn't distract her.
I stand and rest my palm on Sierra's shoulder, searching her eyes for an update. When she offers me a little smile and shakes her head side to side, I nod in relief before squeezing her shoulder. At twelve years old, she should accompany me to the market, but I can't leave mama without help while I'm gone. I kiss her temple and shift to step away, but she grabs my hand with both of hers.
"What is it?"
"I do not know. I have a bad feeling."
I search her expression again and note the worry lines on her brow. She weaves her fingers within mine and shakes her head again, sending her short black hair bobbing back and forth.
"Like how I felt before Babu came home all bloody," she whispers, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the twins and mama aren't listening.
Knowing there's nothing I can do to soothe her, I slide my hand out of hers and wrap my arm around her shoulders, tucking her against my side.
"Come, let us make dinner."
She rests her head on my shoulder for half a second, taking comfort before straightening her spine and turning her attention to our family.
Mama sits in her normal spot, propped against the wall beside the south-facing window. With most of her nesting materials either tucked under her or stacked against the wall so she can enjoy the breeze, her round belly seems to fill her lap.
"Keziah, my love, I am so glad you are home."
"Me too, mama. How is the parasite?"
She chuckles at my nickname for the babe in her womb, knowing I love the new life just as much as she does, no matter how hard it will be to provide for them.
"Bruising my ribs and crushing my bladder. All good things. That little devil, though—" she points at Jestu with a sparkle in her eye, "will be the reason I have a heart attack."
"What did she do?"
"More of the same. She is a wild one, my Jestu."
I smile with her and lower to my knees in front of her makeshift pallet. She grabs my wrist and guides my palm to her belly. The babe kicks my hand, soothing the angst in my chest.
Little toes sweep along mama's ribs, and after some gentle prodding, I locate knees and a shoulder. Exhaling in relief as I confirm the baby's head points downward, I meet Mama's dark brown eyes and look past the strain caused by years of hard living and see the headstrong, resourceful woman underneath.
She pulls me forward, kisses my forehead, and motions me away, knowing I will not rest until I've fed everyone.
My knees crack as I stand, but the twins' high-pitched voices mask the sound despite how quiet they speak. With full strides to hide the stiffness of my joints, I cross the room and open the only solid door within our three-room home. Besides the main living area, there's a bedroom in the back we all share and the tiny kitchen I stand in now.
Pulling the strap off my shoulder, I set the bag on the low built-in ledge along the left wall and stoop down to check how much fuel remains in the little canister under the single burner stove.
I'll have to trek all the way to the fifth square for a refill if babu does not come home in the next three days. Staying in a squat, I lean to the side and yank open the lid of the buried box, grateful to see everything is as I left it.
With the sun so hot, the coolness of the ground is the only way to keep food for longer than a day, even the dried grains and powders which were packaged to last for months. I take out the jar of green powder and carefully set it next to the bag, closing the box and moving the only pot we own onto the burner. After emptying the contents of the bag onto the ledge, I grab our one knife and chop the items into tiny cubes. Three fresh root vegetables, two chunks of dried meat, and a handful of white grains clunk into the bottom of the pot. The bucket of water in the corner of the room feels suspiciously full when I pick it up. I pour just enough into the pot to cover the ingredients and turn on the burner to its only setting.
I stomp into the living room, snatch up Mama's water tin, fill it from the bucket, and cup her hands around it.
When I turn to go back into the kitchen, bright light blinds me. I freeze in place, hating the fear coursing down my spine as I wait for the person standing in our front door to show themselves.
"Babu! You are home!"
Jestu moves first, greeting our father with wary enthusiasm. I hurry into the kitchen to finish dinner, my heart pounding in my ears.
I fix the meal onto our family platter, carefully sprinkling the appropriate amount of dark green powder onto the individual portions. When it comes time to put the nutrient dense powder onto my own food, I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching and stir half of it into my mama's instead.
"Keziah."
My shoulders tense. Babu never enters the kitchen, yet he stands in the tiny space with me now.
With dread in every movement, I turn around.
"Babu, dinner is ready."
"Come outside."
My stomach drops to the floor, his flat tone frightening.
Too afraid to ask questions, I clasp my hands in front of me and follow him through our tiny home, glimpsing the confusion on my mama's and siblings' faces, barely noting the tears in Sienna's eyes before stepping onto the dusty street.
I follow my father's slim shoulders around the corner, wondering not for the first time how massive he could have been if he'd had proper nutrition during his childhood. Like most alphas in the slums of Gotawe, he stands taller than the average beta male, but remains lean and trim, as though no amount of food will ever fill him out.
No matter how much smaller he may be than the alphas he works for, he's still imposing, still bigger and stronger than I could ever hope to be. He's never raised a hand against me or mine, but I always worry the darkness lurking in his eyes will break free.
"I am sorry, Keziah."
Two giants step into view from the alley behind him. My sandals freeze to the hard packed dirt as terror arrows down my spine.
"No, babu. What have you done?"
But I already know. I just want to hear him say it.
"You must go with them."
"No. Please."
He does not speak. Does not move. Merely watches as the massive males stalk toward me.
At the last second, my muscles bolt into action, but it's no use. I turn, only to find another brute blocking my path.
Searing pain runs up my neck. The boulder of an alpha pulls the needle out of my flesh and wraps his meaty fingers around my biceps. As the world upends and darkness swirls along my periphery, a cool numbness sweeps through my veins. With the black material covering the alpha's back filling my vision and my arms dangling down to bump against his butt, I slip into a sleep deeper than I've ever known.
In the darkness, the truth repeats over and over.
My father sold me to three terrifyingly huge alphas.