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When they took the child upstairs, I heard the humming and the music and couldn’t bring myself to understand what they were doing to it. The baby cried and screamed and no one was picking him up.
Why wouldn’t someone pick him up? His scream changed and I wondered if maybe he’d been hurt.
Then he turned silent. And that was the worst noise of all.
I had to console myself with the knowledge Trayem had taken the child upstairs and would never let anything happen to the baby.
But he was the one who took the child up those steps in the first place. How was I supposed to trust him after he did something like that?
It took me hours before I calmed down, and only then, it was due to exhaustion more than coming to terms with what had happened.
I passed out, and when I awoke, found the soiled sheets and towels they’d used during the birth had been removed. They had also washed, cleaned, and fed me—I assume intravenously. Nothing solid had passed my lips and I couldn’t taste anything on my tongue.
My body still ached from the birth. I was still exhausted. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and began to weep, somehow sensing I was never going to see my beloved baby again.
I never spoke another word after that, not even when Junic came over to check my health signs. She organized for me to be taken out of the cell and moved back to the Prize Pool.
“I’m sure you would like to see your friends again, wouldn’t you?” she said amiably.
I could have torn her eyes out.
But I didn’t. I shuffled along like a zombie, pausing only at the foot of the steps that led up to Krial’s apartment.
They placed me on my original pallet and there’s where I laid for the rest of the day.
Rest of the night? I couldn’t tell.
Either way, I hadn’t moved a muscle and stared at the wall, admiring that stain that never moved.
The only person who offered any real words of comfort was the only person who knew as much as I did about the situation.
Lily sat on the edge of the bed, the lace of her black dress tickling my bare knee. I didn’t move to scratch it.
“I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to come speak with you all day but I never knew what I should say. Should I say everything will be okay? That things will get better from now on? No. It never will and life will never be the same for you again.
“I saw them take the baby from you and I honestly don’t know what happened to him after that. I’ve promised myself to find a remedy to ensure none of the other girls fall pregnant. It’s a miracle none of them have yet. What they’ll do when they don’t, I don’t know. Probably replace us. There’s little else I can do for the girls. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
She got up and moved away. As lacking in encouragement as her words were, they touched me more than all the other girls’ comments put together.
I began to wonder about the future, about what would happen to me once they decided enough time had passed and it was time for me to get back to work.
Have more sex.
Get pregnant again.
Only for them to tear the child from my breast the way they had with the first.
I couldn’t let that happen. I would rather die than to let it happen again.
Even being sold to a pleasure house was better than that.
So, I devised a plan to tell the other girls what happened to me in as much detail as I could and then…
And then…
What?
Would the girls try to fight? Could we lead our own miniature rebellion? Or would they go back to the way things were and prostitute their bodies?
