The pain from every punishment James had ever inflicted on me was nothing compared to the stabbing pain within my heart at learning Charlotte's fate. I was in such a state of shock, I couldn't even muster a tear for my lost friend. It was surreal to think that kind-hearted and optimistic Charlotte was dead; that I would never hear her effervescent voice or see her infectious smile ever again. She was gone forever.

I couldn't help but blame myself for Charlotte's death. She begged me to run away with her, to flee the city together so she didn't have to live this dreadful life any longer, but I brushed her off. If only we had left Grayson when she asked. If we had fled to the wastelands, perhaps she would be alive at this moment. I allowed my fear of the Guardians and the unknown landscape beyond Grayson's walls to interfere with my decisions. I had failed my best friend.

Still, to commit suicide? I could hardly accept that Charlotte would stoop to this level. No matter the extent of her abusive home life, this seemed like such an extreme form of escape. I suppose all of the warning signs were there from the beginning if I had stopped to listen. Charlotte had been adamant that she would do anything necessary to be free of her husband, but I hadn't realized she meant this. I hadn't taken her claims seriously enough, and now she was dead.

I shook my head, angry tears pricking at my eyes. The world was a much darker place because Charlotte wasn't in it. It wasn't fair that she had to resort to taking her own life to get away from her abusive spouse, that her only choice was a life of misery or peaceful death.

I turned to glare at Charlotte's husband as those closest to him patted his back and offered their condolences for his loss. The plump, downcast man dabbed the corners of his eyes to wipe his tears, but his charade didn't fool me. He never cared for his wife- not in the way that Charlotte deserved. From everything she told me, it wouldn't be surprising if he had been the one to push Charlotte to her death. I could only imagine his reaction when he found out that his son, his heir, the continuance of his name and legacy, had been born dead. In his fury, he could have easily overpowered a young woman who was weak from hours of labor, a mourning mother delicate and disheartened from her loss.

My mind fumed as the preacher continued reading the prayer list. When the service had ended, I stood on trembling legs and followed James into the center aisle, eager to be home so I could grieve my friend's death in peace. As we passed by Charlotte's husband, I overheard a group of well-wishers offering their sympathies. He shrugged them off with a kind thank you, but quickly turned the circumstances around to blame Charlotte.

"My heart aches at losing my beloved wife, but there are times when I wonder if this was a blessing in disguise, an act of God," the man said. "The girl was insubordinate from day one. Surely He sensed the malevolence within my young wife and knew that she would breed this immorality into our child. Why else would He see fit to take them both at such a young age?" the man told the group nonchalantly.

I'd never felt such hatred for another human being as what I felt for Charlotte's husband. My body began shaking with unadulterated rage, but none of the other churchgoers seemed phased by his words. Though he had openly shown his resentment for Charlotte and disrespected the dead by making her out to be a devilish woman, those around him simply accepted this and turned a blind eye to his maliciousness. Surely it couldn't be the man's fault that the marriage had turned sour from the start.

I knew that if I were alone with this man, I would kill him with my bare hands. If Charlotte were here she would tell me I was being dramatic and emotional, that I should keep my wits about me before we both wound up dead. She would tell me that taking this man's life would make me no better than he was, and that I should just let it go. But Charlotte wasn't here anymore. She was nothing more than a memory lingering in my mind, and ghosts had no authority to give advice to the living.

I grasped at the fabric of my dress, urging myself to leave the building without hurting Mr. Henderson. No one would question him about her death. He wouldn't get in trouble or have any sort of trial to find the true cause of Charlotte's death. He would simply go about his life, perhaps attending another Awakening Ceremony next year and opting for a new wife. All while Charlotte lay cold and abandoned in an unmarked grave, her memory the bane of my cruel existence.

I somehow managed to hold my emotions together for the rest of the evening- through dinner and my evening in James' bed. But when night arrived and I was alone in my quarters, I couldn't keep it together any longer. Charlotte's loss fully hit me, my anger turning to inconsolable grief as sobs racked my body.

When Ruby came to my room to bring my nightly cup of tea, she hesitated in the doorway before hurrying inside and locking the door. She didn't say a word, but she didn't have to. She knew me well enough at that point to realize that my reaction could only be a result of one thing. She sat on my bed, holding my head in her lap and shushing gently as she tried to calm me. But there was no way I could be calm when I knew Charlotte would never be in my life again.

Somehow, through the incoherent sobs, I managed to explain Charlotte's death to Ruby. She didn't say a word, but gave a knowing nod, holding me close until I'd cried myself out.

"It may not seem like it right now, but this pain will heal," Ruby said as she tucked me into bed late that night.

"No, it won't," I muttered. "Nothing will ever be okay again without Charlotte."

She smiled gently. "I promise it will. You'll never truly get over losing someone you love, but I promise that the pain you're feeling now will subside with time. Eventually, you'll be to remember Charlotte for the memories you made together, and not her untimely death," she said, gently wiping a lose tear from my cheek.

She leaned toward me and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Sweet dreams, Mia," she whispered, before leaving the room.

***************

I spent the majority of the week curled up in bed, unable to eat or sleep. Each day after James left for work, Ruby came to my bedroom and held me as I sobbed, mourning my sister's death. I allowed Ruby to hold me a little tighter, each of us finding comfort from the other. She didn't say a word as she laid with me, but she didn't have to. Simply being there was enough to ease my pain.

I closed my eyes and, once again, the notion of reincarnation was at the forefront of my mind. I dreamed of galloping alongside Pearl through crystal clear streams and flower-filled meadows, my mane flowing in the wind, fierce and unrestricted. The idea helped ease the pain of losing Charlotte. To think that she could still be with me in another form- a butterfly flying high above the ground, unhindered by the pains of her humanly body and finally appreciated for her beauty, or a wolf, strong and wild, free to roam the mountains beyond Grayson and able to defend herself against the harm- made her loss a little more bearable.

Despite my grief, life in the Moberly Manor went on, mundane as usual. I started spending a lot of time in the gardens behind the house, surrounded by the late autumn blossoms. Their sweet aroma brought me comfort. The leaves on the trees were a lovely mixture of canary yellow, deep crimson, and vivacious orange hues. The shade from the vast canopies reminded me of hours spent with Charlotte in the Grayson Park when we were children- back when things were simple, before the reality of our adult lives sank in and took us on differing paths. The childhood memories made me smile, but they were also a cruel reminder of what used to be and what never would be again. The sight often reminded me that my life was a mere existence; that- like a shadow- we were here one minute and gone with the next passing of the clouds.

As the weeks passed, the colorful leaves soon began to fall, forming a vibrant layer of foliage on the vast lawn. As the leaves continued to tumble to the ground in heaps, the heavens slowly darkened for the coming winter. The skies turned overcast, and though the sun peeked out on occasion, it was quickly swallowed up by the bleak gray clouds.

Slowly, I began to heal, and regained a part of myself that I'd thought was gone for good. I knew that I would never be the same without Charlotte; a large chunk of my heart would forever be missing without her presence. I missed her terribly, but, in a way, I was happy for her because she had gotten what she wanted in the end- to be free. The notion that she had finally found peace helped ease the ache in my heart.

Through some unspoken agreement, Ruby and I had decided to throw caution to the wind. What we were doing was still dangerous- we could never forget the risk involved in being together. But losing my best friend had permanently altered my outlook and I finally permitted myself to let go of the doubts that had once held me back from showing Ruby how much I cared for her.

Sometimes I felt guilty about being happy in my new relationship when Charlotte was barely in the ground. It felt like a tremendous betrayal to suppress her memory this way. But I pushed away the remorse because I knew deep down that Charlotte would be proud of me for moving on and finding a love like we had dreamed about as little girls; a love like what I had with Ruby. She would want me to find happiness in a world where she couldn't.

From that point forward, I was determined to live life to the fullest- for the both of us. Life was too short to live in fear or spend your time being miserable- Charlotte taught me that much. You had to figure out a way to find joy in a joyless world, and nothing brought me joy like when Ruby's lips were on mine.

When we kissed, it felt like the puzzle piece that had been missing was finally put into place. I was whole when I was with Ruby. The world made sense, and for the first time, I could see things clearly. With Ruby I felt things I'd never experience before, sensations that I could never receive from James. To him, I was just a hindrance, a disobedient dog that was kept tethered to the shed until the day I died. But Ruby brought light to the darkness, radiating her love to undo James's hatred.

It had taken me two decades to admit it, but, finally I realized why I had been so nervous about my Awakening Ceremony, why I was so hesitant to meet my future spouse. Though I had spent years denying it, I could no longer live a lie. I didn't love my husband, and it wasn't just because he was an abusive, unkind, manipulative man. I would never be able to love him in a romantic way, no matter how he treated me. After repressing it for my entire life, I finally accepted the fact that I was more attracted to women than men.

It was terrifying to admit it to myself. Even the notion made me paranoid, as though the government could hear my innermost thoughts and realize the sinful atrocities I committed each day. But I couldn't change who I was. I was gay. I had always been gay. And no amount of threats or scare tactics from the government would change the fact that I would always be gay. It wasn't a choice- why would I choose to be something considered a blasphemy in Grayson, the one thing that was sure to get me killed if found out?

No matter what the law said, my feelings for Ruby didn't feel unholy or blasphemous. Even the animals who knew no better found themselves drawn to creatures of the same sex, so why were humans any different? The feelings I had for Emmy were proof that my sexuality wasn't something I had a say in.

What sort of God would allow his creatures to have feelings like these if they were so unnatural? Why would He want them to experience such strong and pressing emotions, and be made to feel shame because of it? Or be forced to suppress them as though they had any control over who they fell in love with? I couldn't accept that loving Ruby was wrong. Fear of the different and unknown was the only true culprit here.

I cared for Ruby more than I had cared for anyone in my life. When I was with her, the rest of the world disappeared. I wasn't worried about what might happen if we were caught, or what our future would hold. I was simply living in the moment, lying under the sheets with the only person left in this world that I loved, even if it ultimately led to our death.

***************

I wanted desperately to visit Charlotte's grave, to bring her flowers and see where her dead body was buried so I could accept the truth for myself and try to move on. But I was forced to remain indoors by James' orders. Though he hadn't said so, I suspected he'd learned of my connection to Charlotte from my past life and worried I might follow in her troublesome footsteps. It was ridiculous, and all it did was make me restless and angry.

The only good that came of my imprisonment was the time I got to spend with Ruby. Without the prying eyes of James or the Guardians, we could be ourselves. I learned that she loved sunflowers and summertime. That, in another life, she would have helped save lives as a nurse or doctor. And I learned that if the two of us had been born five hundred years earlier, we would have had a love like none other, out in the open for the world to see with no reservations or fears that doing so could cost us our lives.

Even through the adoration that I felt for Ruby, the hurt of losing Charlotte never really went away. It ebbed and flowed like the waves of the sea, coming in relentless spurts. One minute I would be content and laughing with Ruby, and the next minute, Charlotte's innocent face would flash in my mind and I would be doubled over from the aching guilt of enjoying my life without her.

Ruby never complained or made me feel like a burden as I continued to mourn the loss of my sister. She was the only one there for me in my time of grief. At times I wondered if she was the only reason I was still alive. I wouldn't have anything left to live for if it weren't for her. I may have flung myself from the nearest building had I not been afraid of leaving her alone in the world.

In a way, I envied Charlotte. She was free from the burden of being a Grayson woman, of sharing a bed with someone you loathed or being poked and prodded each month in hopes of being pregnant. Once upon a time I would have feared death, but now it seemed almost like a sweet escape.

I was still a naïve child before Charlotte left, but her death helped me grow up. I could see the faults of our world more and more, and was slowly starting to understand what Charlotte had comprehended long before me; that there were only two ways out of this prison we called life- escaping Grayson, or death.

The doctor's visits continued, despite my grief. Each month I went in to the clinic, my stomach in knots as the ultrasound revealed my empty uterus. A part of me was relieved; James was a horrible man and I was glad that I wasn't carrying that monster's child. He wasn't a very good husband and I had no doubt that he would be a terrible father. I didn't want to subject any child to his cruelty.

Besides, I knew that I wasn't ready to have a baby, especially not James' baby. I was internally thankful with each passing month that my body rejected him. For who would want to bring a child into a home like this with a loveless marriage and relentless violence? What example would they be for the next generation, creating boys who would repeat his behavior or girls who were taught to sit passively by as they were mistreated because they didn't have the power to say otherwise?

But as time went on, my viewpoint shifted. As I sat in the waiting room, I found myself becoming increasingly jealous of the girls with enlarged bellies and glowing skin. I started longing that I, too, could get pregnant. Though I knew it was wrong, I hoped that this might be the one thing that would cause the beatings to stop.

James had grown increasingly more violent the longer we were married. Almost every interaction I had with him would result in blood and bruises. My struggles with infertility had increased James' frustrations, resulting in more frequent outbursts and violence.

With each passing month, James' sense of embarrassment amongst his peers worsened. How did it look that the head of the Population Growth unit couldn't provide Grayson with children of his own? His entire job entailed helping renew the city with life and he wasn't doing his part. He was ashamed and took that humiliation out on me. For surely he couldn't be the cause of our pregnancy struggles. It must be me and my inadequate ovaries that were causing such difficulties.

When things were more than I could bear, I found myself praying that I would conceive. Perhaps James would leave me alone if I was bringing forth life, the most precious thing in Grayson. It was an irrational solution, but a solution nonetheless. I was desperate and desperate people do crazy things, even resorting to bearing the fruit of an evil man.

But each time the thought crossed my mind, I pushed it away. I could be strong enough to bear the pain; I had to be. I would rather endure the rather of ten James' than subject a child to the life I was given.