Folsom (End of Men, #1)(33)

“You’re the one who needs the sentiment. A boy!” She puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “He will be the salvation of his generation, the salvation of many generations. It is such a great honor. Born here to us in the Red.”

I feel my stomach turn with her words and put my hand over my mouth. When she realizes I’m going to be sick, she backs up and I run past.

I barely make it to the bathroom and bend over the toilet, heaving up everything I’ve eaten in the last day—which isn’t much. My mom comes rushing behind me and rubs my back. When I finally stand up, she hands me a cool washcloth and I wipe it across my forehead.

“This was too much for you to come home to,” she says. “I’ve barely seen you and just wanted to celebrate your big news…and Sophia’s,” she adds, smiling. “Getting sick already?”

“This is the first time and maybe it’s…I don’t know, nerves or something.” I pin a few strands of hair back and look at her. “When were you going to tell me you’re getting married?” I attempt to sound joyful, but my mother knows me too well.

She frowns. “Did Pandora say something? I specifically told her to let me share the news with you girls first.”

“Of course she said something. She came at me like she couldn’t wait to spill the news. Is this what you want, Mother?” I lean against the vanity and face her. “You love her?”

“Sometimes we have to look at the bigger picture, sweetheart. I’m doing what I need to do for this family. And yes, I think in time I will love her. Romance is a thing of the past anyway,” she says softly.

I reach over and hug her and we stand that way for a long time, until I lean back and look into her eyes.

“What’s wrong, Gwen?” she whispers. “This should be the happiest day of your life.”

“My son, Mother,” I say, resting a hand on my belly. “They’re going to take him from me eventually. I’ve seen what they’re forcing Folsom to do, how they treat him like he’s not a human, he’s a commodity.” I want to tell her about Laticus too, but there’s a rap on the door and we both jump.

“Everything okay in there?” Governor Petite calls through the door.

I jump back, startled. My mom runs her hand over my cheek, concerned, and I smile.

“Better now,” I say loudly.

“It isn’t the way things used to be,” she says sadly. “But it’s the way it is now. Men serve their country in a different way, and it’s their honor to do so.”

I shake my head. “Have we ever asked them how they feel about it?”

“Shh.” She glances behind her at the door.

A shadow moves across the bottom and I wonder if the governor is eavesdropping. That men are fulfilling their duty is something that’s been drilled into us for years. Ceremonies at the Garden of the Dead, where statues are erected in their honor, the parades, and video clips, books, classes at school—we are conditioned to believe things, and until I met Folsom I never questioned a single one of them.

“We have to get back to the party,” my mother says. “You are, after all, the guest of honor.”

“Let’s have a few more minutes, just us,” I whisper and lay my head on her shoulder.

“I love you, sweetheart,” she says.

We stand there like that long enough for me to feel vaguely human again. My mother has always been my strength.

When we step out of the bathroom, the governor is leaning against the window. Something about her expression makes me halt in mid-step. She moves toward us and puts her arm around my shoulder, leading me toward the door.

“Are you okay, dear?” Her face is the picture of supreme concern.

I’m not used to her undivided attention. Usually she greets me then sweeps my mother away.

“I’m much better,” I tell her. I look over my shoulder at my mother who nods and follows us.

“You know I’ve been thinking, and especially after you were sick just now…with this baby boy coming, you really must do all you can to remain healthy, Gwen.” She squeezes me closer and I turn to look at her.

“I’m fine, it was just—” I interrupt.

“I know you are now, but you overdo it. Your mom has been so worried about your long hours. I can have a talk with your superiors at Genome Y and have them give you a paid leave of absence.”

I shake my head. “No, no, that’s not—”

“Really, I insist. We have to protect this boy, and that means looking out for you while you’re carrying him.” She smiles sweetly and gives my cheek a pat.

I look at my mother, horrified, and my mother steps forward.

“I don’t think that’s necessary just yet, Pandora…really,” she says.

“Well, if you keep having these bouts of sickness, I’ll have to step in and make sure you follow a stricter regimen. We don’t want anything to happen…” She leans forward and the light hits her eyes, making them gleam.

I feel a chill crawl down my spine and look at my mother. She’s smiling at the governor fondly, as if she’s grateful Governor Petite is looking after my best interests. I exhale and relax my shoulders. It’s been a long day and I’m getting paranoid.

We walk into the party and my face is projected on the wall at the end of the room. Everyone’s watching, listening raptly as I spill my heart out on the Regional news. Governor Petite’s hand tightens on my shoulder and she leans into my ear, teeth gritted.