I want to ask her who “they” are and why they might need me, but her tone is solemn and my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“No dresses anymore. Do not let men look at you with desire.” She wraps a length of gauzy cloth around my chest, binding it tightly.

I can barely breathe.

“Wind bandages around any parts of you that are soft.”

She hands me an oversized pair of trousers so faded that no particular color could be ascribed to them. I pull them on quickly, and follow them with a large shirt.

“Wear clothes like a mask so no one will see you, do you understand? Wear them to hide your true face. You are not Nina the kitten, you are the Black Cat. Show your teeth and claws at every opportunity so they remember that you’re dangerous. Only then will you have won a small portion of safety. One shut eye’s worth of sleep.”

I tie up a pair of thick boots that have seen several owners and don a large cap that engulfs my small head.

“Father might have given me his silver tongue, but he gave you his sharp brain. You’re clever, Nina. That is a weapon. You’re small and you’re quick, and those, too, are weapons.”

She grips my wrists and peers into my face.

“Be useful, be smart, and stay one step ahead of everyone. Be brave even when you’re afraid. Remember that everyone is afraid.”

I’m afraid now, of her. Of the two days of awful crying and the blank stares and the fire that burns in her usually gentle eyes. What has happened to my sister?

“When you think the darkness is coming for you, when you are small and frail and fear that our mother the City is trying to destroy you, you must not let her. Do you hear me? You must survive.”

“I w-will, I swear it,” I say, my voice trembling.

We go downstairs to where Femi Vano waits in a shadow.

“You’re to go with Femi and you’ll do what he tells you,” Azelma instructs me.

My heart races with fresh panic. “B-but I want to stay with you!”

This carved-out form of my sister bends and looks me in the eye. Her voice is hollow.

“Sometimes we must pay a terrible price to protect the things we love.”

I don’t understand what she means. There are a hundred questions I want to ask her, but I can’t find the words; they choke my throat as tears roll down my face. She ignores them.

“You must look after yourself now.”

She glances at Femi, her eyes like chips of ice.

“Take her, then.”

There’s no goodbye, no hug, no proclamation of her love for me. Instead, she pushes me away as if she doesn’t want me anymore.

“Zelle?”

She begins moving through the tables, cleaning.

“Zelle—” I start toward her, but Femi holds me back.

“Hush.” Worry laces his voice. He’s scared, and I don’t know why.