I am curled around the leg of Violet’s bed frame, hiding under a pile of kicked-off sheets, trying to piece together the events of the day. It is not like me not to remember. I am an observer—it is what I do. Seeing things clearly is the only thing I have to hold on to. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor. The restroom is the only place in the school that resembles the rest of Talline, with wall-to-wall mirrors. The bright overhead lights helped spread my form long and far across the room, when where I wanted to be was close to my Person. Violet sobbed, deep and drenching tears, releasing a well of pent up pain. Her sobs echoed across the glass-encased room when she reached her hand out for Samantha’s Lifts! tin. I had a vision of stopping her, knocking the tiny white capsule to the ground. I pictured myself wrapping my dark extremities around her shaking body, reassuring her things would be okay. Of course, it was a ridiculous fantasy, since breaking from my duty would bring an unspeakable punishment.
