Things shifted in my mind, and the weight of my belief scraped and groaned over to Kara. I couldn’t have told you exactly why. Graham had been so nice to me. But I just knew. Maybe it was because no world that gave Williams a prime place could be as bright and orderly as the one Graham had painted for me.

As I sat there, my new reality was replaced by an even newer one. It sucked. I’d been wasting my time on pretty lies.

By the time I was able to straighten up and look the latest version of my world in the face, it had gotten pretty dark. That seemed fitting. I had no idea what lay ahead of me. Before, I’d been imagining some combination of my old aspirations and something new — I’d go back to college and protect humanity on the side; I’d eventually be able to afford a new car, but sometimes I’d decide to fly instead. I know that sounds ridiculous, but those were the kinds of combinations my mind had been trying on for size.

Now I realized the rest of my life was going to bear no resemblance to what had come before. I no longer had a likely future stretching before me, a comfortable path through the streets of Dorf. Nor would I be following any of the getting-out-of-Dorf dreams I’d once nurtured. Instead, there was yawning blackness all around. And I was part of that dark unknown. What was I going to become?

I guess I was someone’s slave.

And Graham. Damn it, I’d liked him. I could almost still feel his hand pressing into the small of my back. Damn.

I felt used and sad. And very alone. I was nothing to these people. They only wanted me for what they thought I could do for them. Which made sense, if the punishment for failure was death.

“What do you want from me?” I asked Kara.

“We need you to come to the mill,” she answered instantly.

I could’ve guessed that one.

“Graham thought I wasn’t ready. He thought I’d get hurt, like Callie.”

Kara sighed. She went and pulled a milk crate out of the back of the van and sat down on it near me. Williams didn’t move. He was little more than an area of darker darkness.

“Beth, you have to quit thinking that he has your best interests at heart. Graham has Graham’s best interests at heart.”

“So why wouldn’t he want me there? Doesn’t he want that strait thing closed?”

The question was met with silence.

“I don’t get it. Why would he want it left open? He’s just middle-management, right? Won’t he get in trouble, too?”