Hours later, after Edmund had gone to work, I washed up, changed, and ate breakfast with Fade and Momma Oaks. She had a thousand questions about the dance, which I answered with his help. By tacit agreement, we didn’t mention our arrival time. Eventually, she ran out of excited chatter and said, “I have to get to work … four dresses on order for Justine and Caroline Bigwater.”
“Well, they have to look the part,” I murmured.
Momma Oaks twisted her mouth like she had something to say, but basic kindness prevented her. I spared her by changing the subject. “We have a few hours yet. I need to stop at the store before I go back.”
“Can I go with you?” Fade asked.
“Of course.” I hoped he wouldn’t ask about my alleged shopping in front of my foster mother.
At her waved dismissal, I kissed her cheek, put our dishes in the sink, and then left via the back door. It was a misty day, coming on to rain, and the light held a hesitant hue. He was good at reading my expression because he didn’t open his mouth until we walked ten steps away from the house.
“What are you doing, Deuce?” His look was quiet and severe, as if he expected me to lock him out.
Instead I summarized what I knew about Momma Oaks and her problems with her son, Rex, then concluded, “I’m just going to talk to him, that’s all.”
Fade didn’t argue with me. At the store, I bought a ball of twine with one of my precious tokens and then inquired as to the whereabouts of Rex Oaks. Since I was staying with his mother, the owner didn’t question why I’d want to know. Salvation wasn’t the kind of town to safeguard secrets or privacy, anyway.
“I take it we’re visiting Rex,” he said, as we left the shop.
I nodded. “Whatever’s wrong, it hurts Momma Oaks, and I think somebody needs to tell him so.”
“Is that your place?”
“I’m making it so.”
Rex Oaks and his family lived in a cottage smaller than the one his parents had built; it sat close to the wall in the northwest corner, tucked to the side of the gate. It wasn’t a prime location, and if families kept growing, they might have no choice but to finish the empty house Fade and I had cuddled in. But I wasn’t worried about town planning. I strode boldly up the walk and rapped on the front door.
A pretty, blond woman answered. She looked ten years older than me, small and slim, with high color in her cheeks. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Rex.”
“Can I tell him who’s calling?”
“My name is Deuce.” I held her gaze until she looked away first, and that told me what sort of woman she was.
It didn’t surprise me when she stepped back, allowing us access. “Want to wait in the parlor? He’s working in the garden.”
Fade murmured, “That would be kind, ma’am.”
After she seated us, she went to get her husband. I scanned the room and found it simple but nice. When Rex joined us, he was a big man, taller than Edmund, but I saw the resemblance in his features. He plunked down in a wooden chair, a frown knitting his heavy brows.
“Do I know you?”
“No,” I said bluntly. “But you would if you ever visited your parents. I’m your foster sister.”
His mouth worked. “Pardon me?”
“I have no idea why you argued and I don’t much care. All I know is that you’re hurting Edmund and Momma Oaks … and if you were any kind of man, you’d make peace before it’s too late.”
“You don’t understand anything,” he snapped.
I ignored his belligerence. “You’re lucky to have a family who loves you. Don’t throw them away. Stop breaking their hearts.” Before he could muster the presence of mind to kick me out, I shoved to my feet. “Thanks for your time, sir.”
Without waiting for a response, I strode to the door. Outside, Fade laughed. “His face … oh, Deuce. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me too,” I muttered.
Summer
The rain came on just before our furlough ended. That gave me hope that the fire the Freaks had stolen would be put out in the deluge, but I had no opportunity to worry as I dressed in my patrol clothes—tunic, trousers, and Edmund’s fine boots. I braided my hair up in twin plaits, and tied them with some of the twine I’d bought at the store earlier.
It had been a good day—no word from Rex yet, but I expected him to stew for a while. Edmund came home for the noon meal, and he gave me a chess match. I still wasn’t very good at the game, which meant he could beat me fast. Belatedly, I remembered I was still wearing the necklace she’d loaned me, so I returned it to Momma Oaks, who was working in the kitchen. In turn, she pressed a package into my hands.
“Take care out there,” she whispered, hugging me.
Though I hadn’t wanted to pry before, I had to know before I left. “What happened to your older son?”
Her lined face stilled, her eyes on some distant memory, but she did not try to avoid the question. Instead, she took my hand, and led me to the sofa in the sitting room. Upstairs, I heard Fade and Edmund moving about, but I hoped they wouldn’t come down and interrupt.
“He became a guard,” she said. “And I was proud of him.”
It must have been difficult for her when I showed signs of following that same tradition. But I didn’t think working the walls was too dangerous in Salvation. There must be more to the story, so I waited for her to go on.
“He was a good boy, Daniel.” Her breath caught like it hurt to say his name. I almost told her to stop, but she went on despite the break in her voice. “One summer, not long ago, a young one slipped out with the growers when they went to tend the fields. She was a curious, lively child, ever asking questions about the world beyond the walls. It was night before anyone noticed she had gone missing.”
“Did he lead the search for her?”
Her mouth firmed. “He was the only one who would go. The girl’s father refused to venture out because Mutie presence had increased in the area. Her parents wrote her off as dead and wept for her loss. They wouldn’t even try.” Such cowardice was obviously distasteful to Momma Oaks—and I thought, in that moment, that she would come looking for me. I resolved never to put her in such danger.
“So he went out alone?” The scene came to me without my reaching for it. I saw a brave young man doing what none of the elders would, risking everything for a child that didn’t even belong to him. I hadn’t known him, but my eyes stung.