Page 124 of Born for Lace

“Never heard of it.” Her voice comes from directly behind me now. “Is it pretty? What does it look like?”

She has never heard of La Mu? The divide between me and the others here grows with each passing day.

I straighten. “It’s not pretty.” It’s poisonous and potent and medicinal, but not pretty.”

Distracted, I gaze across the vast green prism, willing myself to feel the awe of new life and growth all around me, but I can’t catch the beauty of it, the promise and serenity, as if awe is a little wisp of air as elusive as a dream.

I didn’t fit in at The Bite, and I don’t fit in here. The Common Community is filled with optimism and collective grace. A concept I no longer feel a part of.

“Dahlia.”

I look over at Lucy, feeling absent inside and out. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

“I want us to be friends.” Her big blue eyes hold me in a gentle embrace. “I’ve been trying for months. Is it me? Or… Are you too hurt?”

Her words knock me backward, ringing a conversation through my mind with bitter melancholy.

“You pay attention, and you offer something.” He doesn’t look at me as he works. “You did fine at making friends. Some people don’t want it, remember that. I don’t want it. Some people just ain’t made of the right stuff for friendship. I ain’t.”

“How do I know who is?”

“You don’t, so you’ll probably end up gettin’ rejected, hurt, and that’ll shape ya. I’d hate to see that happen.”

“Did he hurt you?”

Her question snaps me to the present.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The man who put the baby inside you?” Her voice softens, laced with uncertainty, as if the very question might shatter something delicate between us. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not on purpose,” I whisper, each word fragile and raw. Just the thought of his body over mine, thrusting inside me,takingme, is agonising. But… things hurt the most while they heal. I’m not sure this applies to broken hearts.

Lucy looks at the hacksaw that I grip with deadly yearning. “Can I borrow that?” she asks. “To cut the tomato stems?”

I clutch it to my chest, and she studies the silly response.

Right,of course, you can.

Clearing my throat, I hand it to her. “Sure. It’s more of a nail file.”

Suddenly, the baby inside me rolls, warping my belly and making it difficult to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.

“Wow.” Her eyes widen as they travel over my pregnant belly, which stretches the fabric of the pretty dress I received when I first arrived at the Common Community.

I curl my toes inside my boots, grounding myself in the present. Forcing my attention back to her, I weave a mask of perceived contentment over my true feelings, a veil that hides and guards my broken heart.

“Would you like to feel the baby move?” I ask, the gentle invitation spilling out.

She brightens. “Ooh, yes, please!”

I take her hand, guiding it to rest on my belly and watch as her eyes sparkle with wonder as she feels the little movements beneath the surface.

“Amazing,” she breathes.

In this moment, I can’t help but think, it’s just a baby…It’s merely a bug, just falling water, a big fan.Nothing remarkable…

“You have a lovely smile,” Lucy says, her gaze on my lips.

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