Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 by Gandy, A. (animal farm read .TXT) 📗

with one more press they fog only halfway up so you can still see out, and on the third press they resume their crystal-clear state. “There’s also a nightlight function which will cause it to glow.” Her answer is chipper.

“It seems like they’ve thought of everything,” I say. “Are there any pregnant women on the floor now?”

She shakes her head sadly. “No, not right now. Every pregnancy is big news around here, so we usually deck out the hallways with balloons whenever someone is in.

“Oh, okay,” I say, confusion coloring my tone.

Her brow furrows. “Were you expecting someone?”

How to answer without giving away Glitch’s illicit research? My mind spins before answering, “Not necessarily. A friend of ours was supposed to be honeymooning here, but we didn’t see her at the introduction yesterday, and I hoped she might have been here.” I give her a smile, silently praying she’ll let it drop.

“Oh, I understand. Right now we have four couples at this location, and unfortunately no babies yet this year. Hopefully you four will be able to change that soon.” She pauses, and looks around as if someone is going to jump out of the woodwork before whispering, “Between you and me, I’ve reviewed your files and you four have exceptionally strong genetic match potential. The best I’ve seen in my entire five years at this facility, so we’ve all got high hopes for you in the next few months.” Her eyes twinkle with excitement, but my stomach churns at her words.

I force myself to paste on a smile, and not think of Patrick sleeping on a too-small chaise lounge. Faith thankfully speaks up. “Oh, we’ve got high hopes ourselves. Teddy is my third match, and I’d love to finally have my baby.” Her voice chokes up at the end, and I can tell she’s fighting back tears. Teddy wordlessly slips his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side.

The blatant display of hope makes me feel ashamed of myself. Here I am, miserable and feuding with Patrick, a ninety-nine percent genetic match for me, while Faith has been married and divorced from two men before Teddy and still hasn’t been able to conceive. When I think about how lucky I am, how hard she’s had to fight for what’s been handed to me, it makes me reconsider my reluctance to start a family. I look over at Patrick, who’s been silent for this entire tour to find him studying me intently.

We lock eyes, and the moment fills with tension. His hand flutters up, as if he wants to touch me, but hesitates and he lowers it back down without making contact. I glance away and clear my throat, not willing to have this moment in front of an audience.

You have to talk to him soon, Sadie. And Teddy and Faith, for that matter. My stern pep-talk does little to encourage me.

“Okay! If you’re ready to continue the tour, the top floor is the most exciting yet!” She says, oozing enthusiasm as she hustles out the door and back down the hallway to the stairwell. We climb another flight of stairs, this time coming out on a landing with a butter yellow stripe on the walls.

“This floor is where the magic happens!” She flings her hands wide as if, instead of another hallway, we’re looking out over a majestic view. She leads us to the first doorway on the right. “Each room on this hallway is a delivery and maternal care suite. This is where you’ll come for the last month of your pregnancy, stay for delivery, and two to four weeks after the baby’s born for round-the-clock monitoring.”

She may intend that to sound safe and inviting, but instead, it makes me feel like the walls are closing in. Living as a bug under a microscope for nearly two months sounds like a circle of hell. And if I remember correctly, my sister-in-law Tess was miserable towards the end of both her pregnancies. Why would they keep us locked up in this tower? I’m about to ask as much when Teddy interjects.

“We don’t actually have to stay though, right? We were under the impression that once our pregnancy is confirmed and the first trimester is over, we’d be able to go home to Georada to be with family.”

She hesitates, and for the first time her chipper façade slips. “Well, technically no, you don’t have to stay in all scenarios.”

I stiffen, knowing there’s a “but” coming.

“But, we only release pregnant mothers on a case-by-case basis. Many find it better to stay here until after the baby is born, so they can be monitored and have medical attention available twenty-four-seven. And depending on your individual risk profile, it may be required.”

My jaw drops. The NLC training courses they’d made us take at the beginning of this had explicitly stated that after a healthy first trimester, we’d all get to go home to see our families. If my stomach was churning before, now it feels like I swallowed fire ants. Hot bile rises up the back of my throat, and I turn on my heel and head straight for the stairs. I keep my eyes locked on the floor, hoping no one stops me before I can make it outside. Tears blur my vision by the time I see a baby blue stripe, and when my sneaker-clad feet hit the last step, which puts me back on the pink floor, tears have started to escape the corners of my eyes.

I rush to the end of the hall, straight out the door, and descend the front steps, head down to hide my overflowing tears. With no destination in mind except away, I let my feet lead me to the rocky beach outcropping behind the guest house. Sawgrasses taller than my head sway, but I can’t hear the swishing of their blades over the rushing in my ears. I stumble down the boardwalk, and my feet crunch on the pebbles but I still don’t