Once An Eve Novel

long black hair secured in a ponytail. “You came back,” she said. She squeezed the breath from my body. Her stomach pressed against mine, the small lump not yet noticeable under her loose green gown. When she pulled back, her eyes were a little sad. “I knew you were still alive. I knew you hadn’t disappeared. I had this memory of you. You were standing right over there, by the gate.” She pointed to the place I’d last seen her, where she’d held onto the fence, staring vacantly beyond me.
    “I did,” I said, squeezing Ruby’s arm. Whatever pills they’d given her then no longer had a hold on her. “I saw you that day. It was the day they brought Arden here.”
    “I kept telling Pip that I’d seen you.” Ruby nodded. “I kept telling her but she didn’t believe me.”
    Pip was walking out of the building, her head down. She kept her hands behind her back. The door banged shut, the sound loud enough that I flinched. She played with the ends of her curly red hair, which had grown so much longer in the months that had passed.
    “Pip, I’m here,” I said. She didn’t respond. “I came to see you.” She inched closer. I hugged her, but her body felt like stone. Instead she pulled back, freeing herself from my grip.
    She rubbed her arm where I’d touched her. “That hurt,” she said softly. “Everything hurts.”
    “Sit down on the bench,” Joby said, guiding Pip by the elbow.
    “Why are you wearing that?” Ruby asked, pointing to my dress. “Where have you been?”
    My mouth was dry. I didn’t want to tell them the truth—that I’d been living in the City of Sand. That I was the daughter of the same person who had put them here, in this building. The man who had lied to them—to all of us—for so many years. It wasn’t how I wanted things to begin, this short meeting between us. “I was taken to the City of Sand,” I said. “I found out I’m the King’s daughter.”
    Pip lifted her head. “You went to the City of Sand without me.” It was a statement, not a question. “You’ve been in the City of Sand this whole time.”
    “I know how this must seem,” I said, reaching out for her hand. She pulled it away before I could touch her. “But it’s not like that.” I stopped myself, knowing I couldn’t reveal too much in front of Joby. “I’m here now,” I offered. But it sounded so small, so pathetic, even to me.
    Ruby was staring at me. She bit at her nails. “Why are you here?” she asked.
    To help you get out , I thought, the words dangerously close to leaving my mouth. Because I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again . Because I’ve thought of you both every day since I left . “I had to come,” I said instead. “I needed to know you were okay.”
    “We’re not,” Pip mumbled. She stared at the table, her finger making idle circles. Her cuticles were bloody and swollen. Her pregnant belly was visible when she sat down, the green gown jutting out around her midsection. “We get to sit out here once a day, for an hour. That’s all.” She lowered her voice, her eyes darting to Joby. “Once a day. The girls who are on bed rest are strapped down. They give us pills sometimes that make it hard to think.”
    “They said it won’t be long,” Ruby offered. “They said we’ll be released soon.”
    I tried to keep calm, feeling the guards staring at me. The King hadn’t yet decided what would happen to the first generation of girls from the birthing initiative, but I’d heard it would still be years until they were released. I thought of the key that I’d given to Arden. Of the dissidents somewhere below the City, working on the tunnels. Of the rest of the Trail, leading away from the Schools, winding through the wild, to Califia. Arden would get them out. And if she didn’t, if she couldn’t, I would find a way. “Yes, it’s going to be all right.”
    “That’s what they say,” Pip continued. “That’s what all the girls keep saying. Maxine and Violet, and the doctors. Everyone thinks it’s going to be all right.” She gave a sad little laugh. “It’s not.”
    I watched her as she ran her fingers over the stone table, her knee bouncing up and down. She wasn’t the same person who’d slept in the twin bed beside me all those years, who had done handstands on the lawn, who I sometimes caught humming to herself as she dressed, stepping to the side, then back, in a secret solitary dance. “Pip, you have to believe that,” I