‘What was wrong with you?’ I ask.

‘Anxiety issues. I was having strange urges, so naturally I spoke to Loricel and she got me into the clinic right away.’

This knocks the wind out of me, and my mouth falls open, but I quickly shut it. Loricel – why would she hurt Enora?

‘What kinds of urges were you having?’ I ask, trying to steady my breathing.

‘Unnatural ones,’ she says, as though this requires no further explanation.

‘Have you been mapped yet?’

‘Oh, yes. You and Pryana will be the last of the Spinsterhood to be mapped. We did it by seniority,’ Enora says, folding her hands in her lap and smiling.

‘Even Loricel?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t have access to the list,’ she says. ‘Although Loricel should have been the first to go.’

First to go. Is that why she hasn’t visited me? Why she didn’t step in when Maela punished me? Did a new Loricel do this to Enora?

‘When am I scheduled?’

‘Friday,’ she says. ‘It is quite painless.’

‘I’m sure it is,’ I say automatically.

The door to my quarters opens, and Jost appears with a silver tray.

‘Enora,’ he calls, ‘will you be dining with Adelice?’

‘No, I’m expected in the dining hall,’ she tells him. ‘I was leaving.’

She nods once at me, then exits. I’m still staring after her when Jost sets down the tray and clears his throat. Snapping to it, I freeze the time, creating a bubble around us, then turn to face him.

‘Am I imagining it or is something different about Enora?’ he asks, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

‘You’re definitely not imagining it.’ I sigh, trying to piece together the information.

Jost gestures for my hands, and we settle down on the cushions. He removes the bandages and inspects my fingertips. Even I have to admit the renewal cream has worked wonders.

‘I think you’re done with these,’ he says, tossing the bandages to the side.

‘Oh,’ I say, trying hard to hide my disappointment. If I’m healed, there’s no reason for him to keep coming to see me.

‘I thought that might be the case,’ he says. ‘So I made a special lunch.’

‘You cooked this?’ I ask in amazement.

‘No,’ he says sheepishly. ‘The food generators did most of the work, but I chose the dishes and laid them out.’

‘It’s perfect.’

I eat with my hands. I love the feeling of the foods – greasy, slick, rough, creamy. Jost laughs and shovels violet berries into my mouth. I wonder whether he still loves Rozenn. The shame of the thought creeps hot onto my cheeks, and he stops feeding me the berries.

‘Ready to get back to work?’ he asks.

‘I guess I have to now.’

‘You could stay in here,’ he says, his eyes traveling along the perimeter of the bubble.