Page 153 of Stars on Fire

Yes, to self-respect.

Yes, to her dreams of studying to become a scientist.

Yes, to new flavours, cuisines and tastes.

Yes, to clothes that celebrated her born body.

Yes, to being one of the youngest cult members to free herself from their parents’ choke-hold.

Yes, to ALL OF THAT.

Once the guards had managed to restrain her very irate progenitor, the lawyer rose to his feet and handed her a bundle of items.

He spoke low so that her chromosome donors would not overhear their conversation.

‘This is a brand new comm tab and wrist comm. They have everything you need — a payment app with schills provided by the providence of the Dunian Prime Fund for Vulnerable Children. You’ll also find your new temporary address and an airship ticket to get you there. Your entry paperwork for university. A list of safe houses in case your location gets compromised. I’ve also included a note with my number. Call me should you need anything else whatsoever.’ He paused for a beat, affection and tenderness in his eyes. ‘Dunia keep you well, child.’

She shot the white-haired man a shaky smile and shook his hand. He’d been the antithesis of the men she’d known in her past, which is what had reassured her that grey, rainy day when she’d run into his family law office, terrified and all alone. He’d listened to her with judgement and quickly moved to open a case file for her. She’d found him to be a great comfort and support every step of the overwhelming process of dealing with the Children’s Court and subsequent volumes of paperwork.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll never forget you or your help, Mr M’Mwema.’

She walked out of the room without a backward glance and into the lobby with her head held high. Past the curious media hordes and the irate cultist members of the Temple angered by her quest for freedom. She even drew stares from everyday Dunians trying to get a peek at her.

She heard the rush of hurried footsteps behind her. A hand pulled at her arm.

She swivelled around to see the woman she detested. Her face small, grey and emaciated, her eyes narrowed with rage.

‘What?’ she demanded of the bitter-faced hag.

‘Don’t leave me! What will I do without you?’

‘What you’ve always done. Pleased him. Spoilt him. Indulged him. Refused to support and stand up for your only child.’

She couldn’t take it any more. She freed her arm and dashed to the fresh air and cool breeze outside the revolving doors.

She flagged down the first available fly-cab.

‘The spaceport, please,’ she instructed the driver.

It took off, whisking her away from a life of misery. The only one she’d ever known. She refused to shed a tear, for nothing about her previous life was worth it.

She’d left everything behind. Except for two precious things. Her grandmama’s necklace and ring. Crafted from two purple sapphires passed down through generations to her grandmother and bequeathed to her, skipping one generation.

She remembered the older lady’s words when she’d slipped them into her hand at the hospital. ‘These are yours. They’re better in your possession than with my selfish daughter. I had them engraved with the name I want you to take, which was my mother’s name. And don’t let your mama find them. She’ll rip them from you.’

A few days later, the stately octogenarian had slipped from this world and into the next, somewhere within the stars.

The jewellery was all she had of her dear grandmama now, a unique and treasured legacy she’d guard with her life, in memory of the one person who’d believed in her and encouraged her to follow her dreams.

She played with the pendant sapphire hanging around her neck, kicked her head back on the seat and smiled.

She knew what she wanted to do. She knew where she wanted to go.

And it was as far away from Rambasa as she could manage.

At 16, Harlow Meridien said yes.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

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