She may not be clear about what really was going on in the clinic, and she’d have more than a few questions tomorrow when the staff arrived and came to claim her for more poking and prodding.
One thing she did know was that there wasn’t any way in hell she’d let the man near her.Get a taste, the hell if he would.
“I have to get back to work.”Avalore yanked away from him, not caring that juice from the meat sloshed onto her pristine white apron, staining it.
“Run, now.But Sals, goin’ to give you a taste of a real man before they get’cha.”His low rumble of laughter dogged her steps.
Avalore didn’t breathe easier until she was inside the swinging doors.No one even spared her a glance as she got to work helping them clean.She purposely shut down her thoughts and the fear clawing along her spine as she lost herself in the work.
Hours later, Avalore was weary and tired as she shuffled behind a different handler who came to collect her.Avalore barely registered the clean, empty, elegant white kitchen they passed through or the small glimpse she got through the cracked ballroom door, seeing men and women dressed in finery and jewels as they danced and laughed the night away—her first glimpse of the Consumers wallowing in their luxury.
While Dispatchers starved and scraped by.
However, that was a fight for another day.When they arrived at the door to the room she shared with Mich, she stared into the narrow window at the still bundle of her...friend...volunteer associate...fellow prisoner.The last felt like a more appropriate word now.
“What happened to the other ladies?”
With the key in the lock, the woman with short, black hair snapped in Avalore’s direction.“What?”
“The others....one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven...”Avalore counted out numbers that represented people, women who were trying to scratch out a small living by volunteering to be in this place.
“That’s not your concern,” the tall woman’s words were brisk, sharp.The handler pulled open the door.Unlike the guards, the handlers didn’t have weapons.
Hell, why would they need them?We had willingly given ourselves over to science.
“Are they dead?Just tell me that.”Avalore stood her ground and refused to move forward until she answered.
“I can’t tell you anything.”The woman’s voice was flat.“I get paid to do what I am told.Escort the volunteers to and from the rooms, labs, and showers....What happens behind locked closed doors,” she shook her head as a shadow of something crossed the woman’s features too quickly for Avalore to decipher.
“I don’t ask questions.Like all the workers hired in the Consumer Providence, I have a family that needs feeding.”With her declaration, the handler stopped talking.
All Avalore could do was nod and move forward into the room.This woman was not where her answers lay.
The sound of the lock engaging filled the quiet room.Avalore gazed at Michaela as she shuffled off on laden feet to her bed.Michaela’s tray of food was still untouched on the small table.Avalore was glad to see the subtle movement of the covering on her roommate’s body, a sign she was still alive.
She wanted to ask Michaela what happened to her the last time she went to the lab.But, since the other woman hadn’t spoken in days, it was doubtful she’d do so now.
The lights went out around her, a signal that the day had ended.
Sliding off her slippers, she climbed into bed, still smelling of the food she’d served, and cleaned off pots and trays.Her stomach grumbled at the scent, but she ignored it as she closed her eyes and let sleep, oblivion, claim her.
