The farm was a sanctuary of cedar wood and hidden solar panels, tucked deep within a valley where the high mineral content of the earth acted as a natural shroud against the High Wave's scanners. For the first time in three days, the air didn't taste of ash; it smelled of dried hay and lavender.
The Golden BedroomMira didn't ask for permission. The moment they crossed the threshold, she took Sofia's hand with a gentle, obsessive insistence that made Jessica's skin crawl.
"She needs a real bed," Mira murmured, her eyes glazed with that familiar, shimmering devotion. "My room is the warmest. It has the thickest blankets."
Jessica stepped forward, her hand reaching out to pull Sofia back, but she stopped. She saw the way Sofia looked at the soft, quilted bed—a far cry from the damp cellar floors and rotted hollows of their flight. A sharp, ugly pang of envytwisted in Jessica's chest. She had spent years being Sofia's everything, and now, watching this stranger fluff a pillow, she felt her grip on her sister's world slipping.
The Near Revelation"You can't keep wearing those rags," Mira said, moving to a heavy oak wardrobe. She pulled out a thick, knitted sweater of deep emerald wool and a pair of sturdy leggings. "These were mine from two years ago. They'll keep the chill out."
She handed them to Sofia, who took them as if they were made of spun silk. Sofia, in her utter naivety, didn't understand the boundaries of the world. She didn't know that her body was a map of the High Wave's failures—the faint bruises from her "transfers" and the sheer fragility of her skin.
With a small, innocent smile, Sofia reached for the hem of her tattered shirt, preparing to pull it over her head right there in the center of the room, oblivious to Mira's mesmerized stare.
"Sofia! No!" Jessica's voice cracked like a whip.
She moved faster than the eye could follow, her hand clamping down on Sofia's wrists. She spun her sister around, shielding her from Mira's view.
"What did I tell you?" Jessica hissed, her voice low and vibrating with a protective fury. "You never, ever undress in front of strangers. Do you hear me? Not for anyone. Not even for a 'friend'."
"But... Mira is nice, Jess," Sofia whispered, her lower lip trembling at the sudden harshness. "She gave me the green wool."
"I don't care how nice she is!" Jessica scolded, her heart hammering against her ribs. "The world isn't nice, Sofia. It's a trap. Every time you're careless, you put us both in danger. Go behind the screen. Now. And don't come out until you're covered."
The Oversized ShieldSofia ducked behind the wooden folding screen, her head hanging low in quiet, tearful obedience.
When she finally stepped out, she was drowning in the emerald sweater. The sleeves swallowed her hands entirely, and the hem reached down past her knees like a heavy gown. The leggings bunched at her ankles in thick folds. She looked like a tiny bird lost in a nest of wool, her petite frame almost disappearing into the fabric.
Mira stood frozen at the foot of the bed. She wasn't just looking at the clothes. She was staring at Sofia's face, which seemed to catch the afternoon light in a way that defied physics. The "Influence" was radiating off Sofia in waves of pure, unintentional magnetism. Mira was mesmerized, her mind a blank slate of adoration.
Jessica watched Mira's dazed face and felt a fresh surge of jealousy. Mira got to see the "miracle" without the burden. She got to love the "Purity" without knowing the cost of keeping it.
"She's beautiful," Mira whispered, her voice trembling with awe.
"She's a child," Jessica snapped, rolling up the massive sleeves of Sofia's sweater with jerky, possessive movements. "And she's tired. Out, Mira. Let her sleep."
As Mira stumbled out of the room, Jessica sat on the edge of the bed. She looked at her sister—fragile, drowning in green wool, and devastatingly innocent—and realized that the more people "loved" Sofia, the harder it was going to be to keep her alive.