became still. All the experiences, all the many challenges, in her life and in her political career seemed to come to bear in what she was about to say.
“I know I’m going to get called in the top three in that lottery.”
Okay, that’s a little spooky. Karen didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know what to say. She felt a shiver. Like there were more people in the room than just the two of them. But what impacted Karen more than what Joy said was the conviction that Joy might in fact be right.
“That’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
Karen swallowed. “You can’t know something like that.”
“I can’t?”
People can be optimistic. Even overly optimistic. But to actually know something in advance?
No one could hear their conversation. No one could pick up on what they were saying. Still, Karen chose to whisper as well. “How could you possibly be so sure of this?”
Joy paused. Like every leader, she had experienced her scars. And those scars had taught her how to be measured. How to listen. How to discern.
“My father inherited the family farm. It was a big, successful operation,” she said. “But he squandered it. He had no idea what he was doing. We sank down to poverty. It was so embarrassing.”
She shook her head as if doing so could somehow get the emotions of those painful memories out of her mind. “I remember being teased at school because we were so poor. One day at recess my brother was being beaten. I didn’t have the guts to intervene, so I ran to the schoolhouse, and a teacher came to stop the fight. By the time the teacher got there, my brother had been beaten so badly that he was full of blood and bruises.”
Joy squinted her eyes a moment as if she were right back there, trying to block out the image of what she was seeing. “I told myself that day that I would never turn away from someone who was suffering. Years later we managed to scrape enough together, and I went to university. Got a master’s degree. Began teaching. Then my son Edward changed everything for me. He was the catalyst.”
The thought entered her mind to share more about Edward. But she decided against it. Now was not the time. “I started teaching about the dangers of human trafficking. Started helping girls wherever I could. Got involved in politics. And here I am in Ottawa. Now let me ask you this question, Karen. A poor little farm girl from Manitoba becomes a member of Parliament. Does that sound like an accident to you?”
It was rhetorical. Karen knew it. Joy knew it. So they waited, both of them absorbing what she was saying.
“This thing is far bigger than me, Karen. I can’t do this on my own.” Joy glanced past her. It had been an exhausting day. Still, in the tiredness of her life, her mind focused every last bit of energy on this single issue until things became crystal clear. “I can’t convince the minister of justice. I just tried. That leaves one other option. The only way forward is a private member’s bill. If I don’t get called early in the lottery, the bill has no chance. No one else knows what I know. No one else feels what I feel. No one else will take the bill forward. And if there’s no bill, then thousands upon thousands of Canadian girls will continue to suffer in shame.”
She stopped. Squinted again. Thought even deeper. “But if there is a bill, if I do get drawn, then thousands will be saved.” She leaned forward. Put her elbows on her desk. Folded her hands beneath her chin. “And that’s how I know I’m going to get my name called.”
It was preposterous. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it just simply too much optimism? Or was it more? Had she tapped into something? Had she received some conviction somehow, someway, of what would actually take place in the future?
Joy nodded her head ever so slightly. “You watch and see.”
chapter six
No doubt Kedisha knew something was different.
Abby could tell her friend was noticing changes in her. Even when they were just hanging out, she felt Kedisha observing her, studying her. Abby had experimented with different makeup, different hairstyles and different clothes. The changes weren’t obvious from one day to the next, but over a week, over a couple of weeks for sure, they compounded into significant changes. Abby seemed altogether different.
Like a patient who gets a sudden new lease on life after a blood transfusion, Abby felt like she had been injected with a drug that made her into a whole new person.
She noticed it herself the most when she approached the lunch table occupied by her peers. Before she had felt apprehensive, even scared, about sitting down. Will they get up? Will they make fun of me? Or worse, will they even know I’m here? But now it was different. Now she was self-assured—she had a confidence that enabled her to approach them and not live and die with someone else’s reaction.
“So who is he?” Kedisha asked as Abby spun the combination at her locker. She pulled on the lock and opened the door.
“Who is who?”
“You know who. How did you guys meet?”
Abby avoided eye contact. “We’re just friends.”
“So there is someone,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Name.”
“None of your business,” Abby whispered, hoping Kedisha would do the same and not draw attention to their conversation.
“Come on. Out with the details. How did you guys meet?”
“I have to get to class.”
“You’re smart enough. You can afford to skip a few minutes to give me the—”
“We met online,” she said, thinking that giving Kedisha a few details would get her to stop her inquisition. “A friend of a friend.”
“Is it that guy I caught you staring at on your phone? Cute. What does he do?”
“He’s graduated.”
“And doing what now?”
“Lots of questions, Kedisha,” Abby said, grabbing her biology textbook and closing the door.
“What do you really know about this guy?”
That didn’t go over well. Abby did little to hide her reaction. “Thanks.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Can always count on you, Kedisha.”
“Abby.”
“Always seems to be so fitting that you have a super guy with you all the time, but poor, pathetic Abby, she couldn’t possibly get a guy. So when she does, he must be a creep.”
“Abby, I’m just curious.”
“No, you’re not. You’re surprised.”
The walk home usually gave Abby a chance to let her mind wander—to explore places without any restrictions. But today, the memory of the conversation she had earlier with
