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. Maybe she’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 something of 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.
“The world doesn’t exist because you gave it permission,” she said. “Things happen all the time that you and I and every other citizen who trusts the media never hear about, things the Harts don’t want you to know.”
“Like what? If anything important happened, everyone would be talking about it.”
“Not the people who want to live to see next week. The deaths of Yvonne and Jameson Hart, for instance.”
“They died in a car accident.”
“Did they?” said Nina, eyebrow raised. “Or is that what the media told you?”
I eyed her. The prime minister’s wife and elder son’s funerals the year before had been mandatory viewing. Seeing the Harts gathered under black umbrellas and watching the coffins being lowered into the ground—it was the only time I’d ever felt sorry for them. “Are you saying it wasn’t a car accident?”
“I’m saying even if it was, you would never know. But the world is out there, and it understands that the illusion of knowledge and freedom is not the same as the real thing. Eventually it will fade, and there are those who will do whatever it takes to make that happen sooner rather than later.” She set her hands on my shoulders, staring me straight in the eye. “Listen to me, because I will only say this once. You have a choice. You can choose to accept the hand the Harts dealt you, or you can pick yourself up and do something about it.”
“What, like scream and protest and get myself killed? It’d be better than this, that’s for damn sure.”
“If you’re going to shun the role the government gave you and live your life underground, then why not do something to change all of this, as well?”
“Nothing I do will make this better. My rank’s already there, and it’s not going away.”
“It only means something because the Harts decided it did, and we went along with it,” she said. “You are more than the number on the back of your neck, Kitty. Never forget that.”
Never forget that if I’d been born a hundred years earlier, I would never have had to deal with any of this? “I won’t.”
“Good girl.” She patted my cheek. “I trust you not to tell any of the kids about this. Not even Benjy. It’s safer for him that way, and I know you don’t want to get him into trouble. But you’re an adult now, and it’s time you learned what’s really going on. If you want to do something worthwhile with your life, all you have to do is say the word, and I’ll put you in touch with people who can help.”
I hesitated. “Who—”
A loud knock on the door made me jump. Nina wiped her hands on her apron and muttered a curse, and the tension in the air disappeared. “Don’t you dare touch anything,” she said, bustling into the hallway.
The moment she turned the corner, I dipped my finger into the bowl and hooked a gob of dough. It melted in my mouth, and I let out a contented sigh, the weight of our conversation forgotten. My last meal in the only home I’d ever known would include my favorite biscuits. That was a nice surprise. And all I wanted today were nice surprises, not the kind that could get me killed. Maybe once Benjy had his VI and was safe, I would talk
