Page 3 of The Sin

Not a guard.

His gaze travelled over every inch of the small room before it settled on me. A sober smile stretched thin over his protruding front teeth.

I straightened from my slouch, an ingrown reflex to his male authority. Almost instantly, I resented the response he’d elicited in me. But I didn’t slump into my chair again.

This was my world and I knew how to navigate it. I couldn’t afford to be hot-headed and reckless here if I wanted to survive.

My head was fuzzy and I needed to stay sharp. I’d napped on and off, but it was impossible to get any proper rest with the bright glare of white fluorescence and my body contorted into this hard chair.

His smile slid off into a greeting. “Mrs. West? Morning.” He spoke in a soft, no-nonsense manner. “My name is Mr. Stenner and I’m your representative.”

“Representative?” I blinked the grit from my eyes while he pulled out the chair opposite me and sat. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Nothing to worry about, I assure you.” He extracted a notepad and pen from his briefcase before setting it on the floor. “You and I are just going to have a chat about what happened.”

He folded his hands on top of the notepad, and his gaze returned to me. “Once we’re done here, I’ll present your case to the panel with recommendations on how we proceed from here.”

“Then you’re not really my representative, are you?” I heard the bitterness on my tongue and tried my best to scale it back to the dutiful, score-perfect St. Ives girl that my entire life had been modelled on. “You’re representing Capra.”

He sat still as a statue, watching me for the longest moment. “You are a citizen of Capra, a valued member of our society. Representing Capra and representing you is one and the same thing.”

Twisted logic.

But like I said, this was my world and I knew how it worked.

Mr. Stenner was oblivious to the irony of his statement. He assumed I was quite literally incapable of not wanting what was best for Capra and our society, even if it were to the detriment of my own wellbeing. Even though my presence in this cell, the reason I needed his representation, screamed the exact opposite.

There was a time I’d been more inclined to think his way—the way of men.

Not anymore.

These are the things I did still believe: Our society was important to the future, any future. Without the science and the IVF treatments, without careful rationing of frozen eggs, the human race would slowly age into non-existence. The marriages and strict gender roles were a desperate last resort but maybe a necessary evil. If we couldn’t reverse the hand of God or evolution or whatever the hell had caused this plague, the supply of ovarian eggs would eventually run dry and then what?

These are the things I’d endured but never believed: Women were second class citizens who could not exist in their own right. We were bound to the authority and subjected to the absolute will of our fathers, our husbands, our guardians. Any form of hobby or social cause outside the home was severely restricted. We had no say in how our lives were lived. We had no voice to speak and no justice that would hear.

There had to be a way to balance our world, reform the sins of our past without reducing women to little more than slaves.

There was a way.

The Sisterhood.

Mr. Stenner cleared his throat to get my attention. Once he had it, he glanced around the room again. “Are you being treated well?”

You’ve got eyes! What does it look like?I shrugged and swallowed that snarky attitude. “As well as can be expected.”

He cocked his head, considered me with a thoughtful look. “Not as well as you’d like, but you don’t expect better. Why is that?”

Trick question. I took my time over the answer. If I denied any wrongdoing, I’d be deemed unrepentant and sent to rehab. If I admitted too much, I’d be deemed a danger to our society and sent to rehab.

Who was I kidding?

I was going to rehab regardless. All I could do now was limit the damage. Hope for a probation sentence. Full incarceration would be the end of me. I wouldn’t come out the same…if I came out at all.

“I was foolish,” I said. “Impulsive and selfish. I didn’t think of the repercussions before I acted.”

I trusted the wrong person. I should have run when I had the chance, crossed that bridge, risked whatever life was up for grabs on the other side. Anything was better than rehab.

Roman had never wanted a wife and he’d never wanted me. On top of that, I’d shown myself to be a problem, a thorn in his ambitions. Getting myself caught in compromising positions with Daniel, breaking curfew, sneaking outside the walls, and those were just the infractions he knew about.

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