I remember I looked up at the church. The five-pointed symbol was carved over the door, painted gold and silver. A light was on in Mana-ma’s study. As far as I know, she’s still the leader out there, as I haven’t heard anything about her dying. She’ll probably outlive the apocalypse; she’s just that stubborn. The supposed wife of God, according to the Good Book. I used to believe that, I really did. But I’d started losing my faith long before I found that tablet, I think. I can’t pinpoint what caused that; just a lot of little things adding up. Guess I was proven right.

Mana-ma would probably be pretty interested in a Confessional from me now, a lot more than she was when I told her I’d stolen some cherries from Leila’s allotment. Confession was meant to be one-on-one with Mana-ma, but Taema and I were a two-for-one special. A few times, she asked one of us to cover our ears while the other confessed, but she gave up after a while. We already knew each other’s sins, anyway. Obviously.

It’s late here in the cell. Earlier today they asked me some questions, some about my sister. I hated every second of it. She’s definitely trying to help me, and I don’t want her to. What if something happens to her because of me? I thought I was doing the right thing. Now, guilt haunts my every moment. Maybe I fucked everything up beyond repair. Stupid, stupid. So stupid.

I’d rather write about the Hearth. Back then, everything was messed up, but we had each other. We didn’t realize how terrible everything was going to become.

Mana-ma would hate that I was writing about all this. She’d be absolutely livid at me for exposing her secrets, but you know what? Fuck her.

I should probably end on some profound note, instead of a swear word. But I told you already: my sister’s the one who has a way with words. I have a way of getting things done.

7. Taema

SEVEN

TAEMA

After Dr. Mata, we return to the safe house. The sun begins to set. It’s been such a long day.

“Meeting Kim for that drink will be fun, if you take her up on it,” Nazarin says, “though don’t be surprised if she busts out a bottle of real tequila and you wake up with the hangover of your life the next day.”

“You speak from experience.”

He winced at the memory. “Oh, yes.”

I smirk and climb into the hovercar.

I turn to him after we buckle in. “Did she ask me for an evening out, or a date? I couldn’t tell.”

“She’d probably be open to either.” He pauses. “Do you date women?”

“Sometimes. I’m bi.”

“Is your sister, too?”