Page 69 of Seven Oars
The worst part was cajoling Sassa from under the blankets. She’d stopped crying but mutely refused to come out. She didn’t wash, didn’t eat, and didn’t talk. The only thing she accepted was a sip of water taken through a straw Rosamma stuck between the folds in the blanket.
“She needs time to heal,” Gro said in a tone that suggested her words were a platitude rather than a true sentiment.
Sassa had been unraveling since before their capture, and this latest development had the potential to break her irrevocably.
And Phex was at fault.
Rosamma wondered what the pirates were doing to him now. She wondered what he was feeling after what he’d done.
Her head ached in two different ways: the sharp pain of the blow, and the dull ringing of low energy. She was cold and hungry, but the effort it would take to rise from her pad and get something to eat was too much. Asking Gro would be an imposition. And the others? Forget it.
She’d never asked for much, never complained in her life, partly because there was no one to appeal to. She hadn’t had a close friend growing up, coached to stay out of larger society on account of her illegal status. Her mother had been too far gone on drugs and booze and too deeply depressed to listen, much less care about her sickly, half-breed daughter’s issues.
So Rosamma learned to keep her hopes and fears to herself. From early youth, she’d become adept at processing the frightening changes taking place in her imperfect body, and coming up with ways to cope.
After her mother’s death, she’d been adrift, alone and unsure where a safe haven might be for someone like herself. Puberty hadn’t been kind to her, molding her girlishly cute looks into the thin, pale creature she was today. It had crushed her strength and vitality.
Finally, after an incident involving her, a drunken man, and Ren armed with a stun gun, she had been confined to her room at the apartment. At the time, she’d been on board, grateful for Ren and Uncle Zaron’s support and protection. She’d been secure in her conviction that they knew best.
And then, little by little, day by day, trapped inside those lovely cream walls, left one-on-one with books and yarn for knitting, she shut her hopes down and unplugged the cord.
Nothing to complain about.
If Ren hadn’t decided to go to Priss, Rosamma would’ve spent the rest of her days like she’d spent the last ten years. Alone.
She closed her eyes.
She didn’t blame Ren for dragging her out into this harsh and unforgiving world. She hated the pirates, but going back to the apartment had become unthinkable. All she wanted was to have a future. Why was that too much to ask?
Eze groaned.
“She’s coming‘round!”
Her fatigue forgotten, Rosamma scrambled after Gro to fuss over Eze, who was in and out of it.
Fawn, who had fallen asleep, sat up groggily.“Is she alright?”
“As well as can be.”
Sounds of revelry came through the open hatch. The pirates were not sleeping. Those ghouls hardly did.
Gro sighed.“I have to go look for Daphne.”
“I wouldn’t go out if I were you,” Alyesha cautioned.“If the girl could find a place to hide, she can find her way back.”
Gro shook her head.“I can’t count on it. And she’s been gone a long time.”
Alyesha shrugged, refusing to make it her problem.
Rosamma chewed her lip.She thought of waiting longer.Then she thought of Daphne by herself, easy prey.
And she came to the unwelcome decision.“I’ll go look for her, Gro. You stay with Eze.”
Gro raised her head sharply.“It’s a bad idea. Do you remember what happened the last time you ventured out?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, let me just…” She tucked a cover around Eze.“And I’ll go with you.”
