Page 22 of The Sin

“We don’t have rationing in Capra.”

“Capra never has shortages of any sort,” he said. “That’s part of the Eastern Coalition’s commitment to the town.”

“You make us sound like spoilt brats.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You literally call me exactly that every chance you got.”

“Noteverychance,” he said with a hint of amusement in his tone.

We broke free from the alley and crossed a wide pavement into another alley before he added, “I’m willing to admit, I was a little hasty in my judgement of you. I’ve begun to see that your inability to take no for an answer has more to do with your stubborn personality than an indulgent childhood.”

I scowled at him. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Not necessarily,” he said with enough ambiguity to grind my back teeth to dust if I allowed it.

I didn’t.

I was too tired to work up the irritation at Roman for his perspective on our world. My limbs felt too loose, as if they were getting ready to fall off. At the end of the alley, we turned left onto the pavement. Here the buildings were tall and uniform, and some windows glowed with the telltale flicker of candlelight.

After we’d squeezed through another alley, we came out on a compact square surrounded with apartment blocks, all uniform again, although these were only three-stories high and each window had a shallow balcony. I hadn’t particularly noticed the lack of greenery until I saw the stark difference with the small patch of hardy shrubs in the middle of this square.

Finally, Roman took us through an outer door and up a flight of stairs. When we stopped in front of a door, I expected him to knock. He didn’t. He unlocked the door with a silver key dangling from his truck’s key fob.

I stood in the doorway, hesitant to barge unannounced into someone’s home, but Roman had no such qualms. Guided by his flashlight, he walked straight in and rummaged through a kitchen drawer. The apartment appeared to consist of just this one room, a double bed pushed against one wall, a mismatched armchair and upholstered couch against the other with a table between them. The kitchen counter at the far end was banked by a glass door that likely opened onto one of those balconies I’d spotted from below.

Given that the bed was in the living room, and unoccupied, it seemed we were alone. I closed the door behind me and made my way to the couch. “Whose place is this?”

“Mine.”

I blinked. “Yours?”

“I had to give up my quarters on the warden base when I transferred to town,” Roman said as he brought a fat candle over to the table and lit it.

“So you bought this apartment?”

“Property can’t be bought in The Smoke.” He shrugged. “It’s just a rental.”

The flickering glow from the candle didn’t cast its light far, but it was enough to lift the edge of darkness throughout the room. It was enough to catch his gaze and pin a look on him.

He didn’t miss it. “What have I done now?”

“You have a second home in The Smoke.” I bent over to remove my running shoes.

“And?”

“Seriously?” I peered up at him. “You and I, we don’t have the best marriage, Roman.”

He said nothing, just looked at me, absolutely clueless.

I sighed. “All this time, you had this apartment to escape that marriage whenever you wanted. The rest of us don’t have that luxury. We have to suck it up. I don’t know, maybe you would have tried harder if you didn’t have another place to run off to? It’s just a guess, but yeah…Whatever.”

I peeled off my socks and pulled up a knee to examine the chafed skin on the side of my little toe.

Before I realized his intention, Roman went down on his knees before me and wrapped his fingers around my ankle.

I tried to wriggle free. “I’m fine.”

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