When I ventured a look up, I found him grinning down at me. “Probably.”
I twisted to face him, lying half on his chest. “Is there really a ninety percent chance I’ll get pregnant?”
“There is.” A look of uncertainty crossed Finn’s face. “Although I’m only half-Veilorian, so it could be less.”
“Or it could be more,” I pointed out.
“True.” He ran his hand over my head, pushing my dark hair out of my face. “There’s no way of knowing for sure since I don’t know any other half-Veilorians who’ve been with humans.”
“Whatever happens,” I told him, “I won’t regret it. No matter what, I won’t regret the time we’ve spent together.”
“We can’t get married,” Finn said, “not legally, anyway, but to me, you are my wife.”
“And to me, you’re my husband.”
I shifted to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms around me. In no time I was on my back, Finn on top of me as we kissed. For weeks we’d lived under a shadow of doom, knowing our lives could change at any minute, but this was different. This change wouldn’t be bad. It would be a glimmer of joy amidst the darkness, and I clung to that knowledge.
I wasn’t sure how long it would take to confirm if I was in fact pregnant, and since Finn was the first half-Veilorian to find himself in this position, there was no one to ask. The answer could come as quickly as it had with Ione—only a few days after she’d conceived—or weeks could pass before I knew.
Even though I tried not to dwell on it too much, I found myself running my hand over my flat stomach more and more over the next few days, wondering if Finn’s baby was already growing inside me. And hoping it was.
It was during one of these moments of quiet contemplation that I had a sudden epiphany. Humans and Veilorians had a ninety percent conception rate, and Anara had been with my father. It was something I hadn’t thought about before, maybe because I hadn’t been ready to face it, but now I couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities. Had Anara gotten pregnant? Did I have a half brother or sister somewhere in the District? If so, did they know I existed?
I had to know.
Finn was off doing whatever kept him busy during the day, but since I knew where Anara lived, I headed out on my own, desperate to get answers. It was early afternoon, so I wasn’t sure if I’d even find the council leader at home, but that didn’t stop my heart from hammering when I stopped outside her door. I had to take a couple deep breaths before forcing myself to knock, and once I had, I stepped back to wait. All around me, the District was alive with activity, but it was more subdued than it used to be. Still, people were hanging in there, which was the only thing that could be done at this point and I couldn’t help admiring their tenacity. Veilorians were fighters.
The door opened, and I turned. Anara stood in the doorway, the same steady expression on her face she’d worn in the meeting, and not an ounce of surprise in her eyes at finding me standing in front of her.
“I knew you would eventually find your way here,” she said, pulling the door open wider. “Come in, Ava.”
I said nothing as I stepped inside.
The door clicked shut, and Anara moved to the couch, motioning for me to do the same. I did, sitting on the edge like I was afraid to get too comfortable and let my guard down. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t stop tapping my toe. I felt like a person waiting to hear bad news. But would it be bad to learn I had a sibling? I loved my sister with all my heart, but this would be different. He or she would be an adult now, at least twenty years old, and a stranger. I couldn’t wrap my mind around that.
Anara took a seat across from me, her expression as undisturbed as ever and her gaze unblinking as she said, “Melora informed me that you know the truth about relations between humans and Veilorians.”
“I do.”
The councilwoman nodded, and I waited, hoping she’d take over. But she remained quiet, her expression as unaffected as ever, and after nearly a minute of silence I realized she was going to make me say the words.
I took a deep breath to prepare myself before blurting them out, “Did you and my father have a child?”
“We did.” Anara didn’t even blink.
The thunder of emotion that rocketed through me was impossible to describe. It wasn’t anger, though. Shock, yes, and confusion as well, but there was something else, too. Awe, maybe?
“Your father had already been executed by the time our son was born,” the council leader continued after a second, “so it was only natural for me to name our child after him.”
“Roderick,” I whispered.
“Yes,” Anara replied.
There were so many questions going through my head that I couldn’t grab hold of even one, so I paused, once again hoping she’d go on without prompting.
When she said nothing, I asked the first question to pop into my head, “Where is he?”
“Not here.” Anara sighed, and for the first time since I’d told her about the recording Mayor Waters had made me watch, genuine emotion flashed in her purple eyes.
I couldn’t read it, though, couldn’t figure out what it meant, and I found myself leaning forward as I waited for her to go on, instinctively knowing this time I wouldn’t be disappointed.
“He has not been here in many years,” she said.
My first thought was that he’d died, but something about her words and her expression of sadness gave me pause. This wasn’t grief on her face. I’d seen what that looked like when she’d spoken about my father. This was something else.
“Where is he?”
“Polis,” Anara replied.
My mouth dropped open, but I didn’t have time to think of
