Queen (The Blackcoat Rebellion #3)(82)

“Tabs is stopping by this afternoon,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m going to talk to her.”

A muscle in Benjy’s jaw twitched. “I can’t do this,” he said, glaring at a spot on the floor. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Setting the spatula down on the counter, he walked away, and the soft click of the kitchen door made me wince. I watched it, willing him to come back, but the door stayed shut.

“He’ll come around eventually,” said Nina as she went back to mixing. “Don’t you worry.”

“I hope he doesn’t,” I mumbled. “It’d be better for him.”

“None of that,” she said. “You need to focus on what you’re going to do, not how Benjy feels.”

“I’m going with Tabs,” I said, perching on the edge of the worn countertop. “It’s not a bad life, and she seems to like it.”

“Tabs is Tabs. That life might suit her, but that’s not the kind of trouble you’re built for. And don’t let her fool you—it’s a hard life. It might have its perks, but the things you give up...it isn’t worth it. Not for you.”

“What would you know about it anyway?” I said, trying to snatch an apple from the fruit bowl. She slapped my hand away.

“I know enough to be sure you’d be better off in Denver than sleeping with strange men.”

My stomach clenched uncomfortably. “Tabs said she doesn’t have to do it that often. It’s mostly going to parties and clubs and stuff.”

“Yeah? Did Tabs also mention that for recruiting you, she gets a cut of your pay?”

I blinked. “She never told me that.”

“Of course she didn’t, dear. And of course she’s going to pretend like it’s a good life. It’s hers, and she’s in too deep to walk away.” Nina touched my cheek with her flour-covered fingers. “Misery loves company, Kitty. Maybeshe’s telling the truth and most of it isn’t so bad. But some of it will be, and those men will never see you as a person, not the way Benjy does. Not the way I do. You deserve better than that.”

“I don’t deserve anything,” I said. “I’m a III.”

“You’re more than the mark on your neck, and you damn well know it,” said Nina. “It might feel like a death sentence, but you’ll see soon enough that you can have a good life no matter where you’re ranked.”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered. “You’re a IV.”

“And look at me now.” She gestured widely. “Cooking dinner for forty children who never have enough. What a grand life I lead.”

“Oh, please. You love it. You love all of us.”

“I do.” Her voice softened. “But because I love you, I feel it every time you hurt and every time you’re disappointed. I understand how upset you are, Kitty. But it’s your life, not the government’s, and you can make somethingof yourself no matter what they tell you.”

I stared at my hands and picked at a ragged nail. I wanted to believe her. I did. But how could I when everything was a mess? “Benjy’s going to hate me for doing this, isn’t he?”

“I don’t think that boy could hate you even if you killed him,” she said. “Though if you get yourself killed, I suppose he might hate you for that.”

I frowned. She was right. Of course she was right, which only made the unease in the pit of my stomach grow. “I did something stupid today.”

“Stupider than usual?” she said, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. At least one of us thought this was funny.

“I tried to steal an orange from the market,” I said. “A Shield caught us, and we ran. I told him my name, so he knows I’m an Extra.” All Extras—second children of IVs and below, who were only allowed to have one—had the last name of Doe. Benjy did. Tabs did. Even Nina did. And because most Extras were sent Elsewhere when their parents couldn’t pay the fine, there were only a few group homes scattered throughout D.C. Nina’s was the only one within five miles of the market.

“I doubt he’ll come all this way for an orange,” she said as she tapped her spatula against the side of the bowl. That was what I loved most about Nina: she’d heard it all, and nothing any of us threw at her ever surprised her. “You know, once upon a time, everyone could walk into a market and buy anything they wanted.”

I snorted. “Fairy tales start with ‘once upon a time,’ Nina.”

“It was a fairy tale of sorts, but that didn’t make it any less real,” she said, lowering the bowl to focus on me. “It’s frightening how much things change in seventy-one years.”

“Yeah, and in another seventy-one, they won’t bother giving IIs and IIIs jobs,” I said. “They’ll take us out back and shoot us instead.”

“There will always be a need for people to perform menial labor.” She crossed my path to get to the sink and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “The Harts won’t always be in power. They’re flesh and blood just like us. Things will change.”

“Not in my lifetime,” I said, and a chill ran down my spine. Talking about the Harts like this was treason. I had nothing left to lose, but forty kids relied on Nina.