After meeting with her mother, Hadley could have gone on to the Cafeteria, but she chose not to. Like most days, she walked over to the Compound Pantry.

"Morning, Hadley!"

"Hey Aunt Zee!"

The pantry was one of Hadley's favourite buildings in the whole Compound, filled with all sorts of delicious foods. It was also one of the most secure. You couldn't just walk in. But there were perks to being the niece of the Head Harvester and Horticulture Senior Officer, who also happened to be an Elder.

Though they were sisters, Aunt Zenobia was as different from Hadley's mother as two people could ever be. To be honest, Aunt Zee was unlike anyone else in the Compound. Her hair was braided into locs that swept the ground, though she usually had them tied up with colourful, handcrafted head bands, beads, and jewellery, some of which Hadley had carved for her. She wasn't very tall, but she was built bigger and wider than most Compound women, purely made of muscle. Aunt Zee was the head Harvester and Horticulturist, her life frequently defined by hauling dozens of kilograms of fruit and veggies from the food forests and grain fields. She embodied power. Wore it proudly.

Her round face was always on the verge of breaking into laughter, which she did quite often. Her eyes held a sparkle and she'd look at you with a warmth that belied any hardship she'd ever experienced. It wasn't usual to have siblings in the Compound. All women here had one child. However, Aadya and Zenobia weren't usual Compound members. They were born as Wildlings, but they were brought to the Compound twenty years ago to replace two women who had unexpectedly fallen gravely ill and were taken away by the vampires.

Usually, Wildlings had their tongues cut out on arrival to keep them from speaking about the world beyond the wall, but, for whatever reason, Hadley's mother and aunt had been allowed to keep theirs, trusted to stay silent by nothing more than the bond of their word. This special consideration by the vampires had made their lives a living hell at the start.

Those born in the Compound held a special type of hatred for Wildlings that stemmed back generations, although the original 'why' was lost in the centuries between. These days, those born outside the walls were hated because they were considered without discipline, uncivilised, diseased, and impure, but Hadley hadn't seen any proof of that from the Wildlings she knew, her mother and Aunt Zee. For years, no one treated her mother and aunt with any respect, but they had both risen in the ranks, chosen as Elders in their own right, three years apart.

You couldn't read any of that difficult history from looking at Aunt Zee.

Unlike Aadya's startingly blue eyes, Zenobia's seemingly unassuming coffee brown eyes didn't reach out to grab you; you went to them gladly. Everything about Aunt Zee was warm and welcoming. Her tender and knowing eyes, her laughter, her smile, the way she looked at you, her constant need for bear hugs and the scent of cinnamon that hang around her from her favourite shampoo bar, which she handmade herself every month with Hadley's help. You knew from gossip and rumours that she was a woman who'd seen a great deal, but there was not a trace of cynicism about her.

As always, Aunt Zee was dressed in a t-shirt and buggy dungarees, folded several times at the ankle, and a simple pair of trainers. Hadley looked at her own overalls and smiled at how similar she was to her aunt. Aunt Zee was a big influence on Hadley, a fact that irked her sister to no end. If only Aadya knew just how big of an inspiration her little sister had been to Hadley these last few years.

"Today is the day, isn't it?" said her aunt as Hadley walked deeper into the Compound Pantry.

Hadley nodded.

"Come give your aunt a little sugar, will you?"

Hadley smiled and walked into the bear hug, taking a lungful of the deep, warm, rich, cinnamon laced scent that was her aunt. She was going to miss this. Aunt Zee held her at arm's length and studied her for a moment. She took a few steps back.

"Hands up," Aunt Zee said.

"What? Now? Here?" Hadley asked, balling her fists and guarding her face as Aunt Zee had taught her, ready to spar.

"I have to make sure you're ready for the outside world." Aunt Zee took up an offensive stance and smiled right before she attacked.

"You know..." Hadley said, her words punctuated by each move she made to block Aunt Zee's hits. "I got... into trouble... for this... with mum."

Aunt Zee laughed. "I heard. Someone caught you practicing. The little snitch told on you."

"I didn't... realise... anyone was... watching."

Hadley blocked every hit except the last, taking a kick to her stomach. She doubled over as air was forced from her lungs.

"Oof," Aunt Zee said, helping Hadley up. "You've got to be faster than that."

Hadley gasped in air, stood up and grimaced. "We're supposed to be sparring, Aunt Zee."

"Time for sparring is over, Hadley," she said after apologizing. "Do you remember, why I taught you how to fight?"

"In case I meet a vampire."

"Exactly. And what's the goal if you meet one?"

"Incapacitate and run."

Aunt Zee nodded then hugged Hadley again, breathing her in deeply before letting her go, both a physical and symbolic gesture.

Hadley walked to one of the shelves and sat on the floor, her back against the shelf as she watched her aunt work. The Compound pantry was an enormous, low-ceiling warehouse filled with a library of preserved foods. Against the main walls of the room were stacks upon stacks of wooden cases filled with fruits and vegetables such as apples, pears, pumpkins, and other squash. Next to the wooden cases were five-gallon and fifty-five-gallon plastic containers filled with grains, legumes, flour, and dried pasta. In turn, these containers flanked shelves of mylar bags filled with dried fruit and veggies. And finally, the centre of the room was a maze of solid shelving units filled with all sorts of canned food, from fruits, meats, and vegetables, all gathered and preserved during the summers.

Aunt Zee was sorting through pantry items, checking every mason jar for mould or cloudiness, and updating the Inventory. This critical check was done every few days because these preserved foods were all that the Compound's population had to feed themselves through the lean winter months and times of poor harvest. Losses due to toxic or badly canned food was always a big blow. However, the designated Compound Canners were experts and her aunt rarely had to discard any cans.

As Hadley watched her work, Aunt Zee fished an apple from one of the deep pockets of her buggy dungarees and tossed it to her. Hadley's eye went wide. She had never had a full apple to herself. She looked back up at her aunt, her brows furrowed.

"According to the records, that one was mouldy," said her aunt with a wink. "Officially, it ended up composted in the Black Soldier Fly shed."

"I can have this?" Hadley asked in disbelief. "All of it? Alone?"

"Save it for the moment you breathe in your first lungful of free air," said her aunt before going back to her inventory records.

Hadley watched her work for a few more minutes. This was the last time she would see her aunt, but the silence felt right. There were unsaid words. The feelings between them palpable. There was sadness, but there was also a buzz of excitement. Hadley played with the apple, marvelling at the roundness of it. Her mouth watered, but she resisted the urge to take a bite.

"What will the Wildlings think of me?" Hadley asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm curious about that myself," Aunt Zee replied, slowly lowering her clipboard, and turning to face Hadley. "Remember what I told you about them?"

"Never act weak around a Wildling," Hadley repeated automatically.

"Exactly. They hate the Sheltered. But I'm hoping they'll give you a pass once you show them my diary."

"Has anyone from the Compound ever made it to a Wildling village before?"

"I don't even think anyone has made it out of a Barn before."

Hadley flinched at the derogatory word the Wildlings used for the Compound that housed her, her family, and her friends.

Aunt Zee's face scrunched into an apology.

"Then why do they hate us? They don't even know us," Hadley asked, her frustration barely checked.

"You already know my answer to that."

"Hate isn't logical."

"And..."

"And neither is love."

Her aunt nodded, sighed, and sat next to her.

"How's your mother?"

"She still loves you. I'm sure of it." Hadley lied. The darkness inside them swallowed love, like it did everything else, but Hadley wanted to believe that love was too powerful a force to completely kill. She'd seen little evidence of it, but for her and her daughter's sake she kept the hope.

"I love her too."

"You should tell her."

"She won't let me. She's still pissed at me for 'corrupting' her daughter."

"What I'm doing isn't your fault."

Hadley's aunt laughed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling Hadley close. She kissed the top of her head.

"It... kind of is," Aunt Zee said, wistfully. "But I don't regret it."

Hadley moved away and looked at her seriously.

"That's not why I'm leaving, Aunt Zee."

Aunt Zenobia studied Hadley's face for what felt like forever, then her mouth fell.

"You're disconnecting!" her aunt whispered the words, but they carried a tome of emotion.

"What?" Hadley's heart raced.

No one knew! They couldn't! Hadley had done everything to make sure they didn't!

"You forget, I'm your mother's sister," Aunt Zee said, sombrely. "I've seen this happen before. Despite what you tell me, I know that Aadya doesn't love me. Or anyone else. That she can't. Somewhere along the way, she stopped being able to. Is that what's happening to you, Hadley? Why didn't you tell me? Jeez! And here I was, thinking you were leaving so you could meet boys!"

The last statement jerked Hadley out of her funk.

She grabbed onto it to push them away from the topic she vehemently wanted to stay away from.

"Boys? No. I... um... I still can't figure out... don't even know what... how that works," Hadley said. She paused for a moment, mulling over the other thing Aunt Zee had said. Her throat was dry when she relented to the inevitable and she said the next words. "What does it mean, Aunt Zee? Why do we disconnect?"

Would her daughter?

"I wish I could tell you, kiddo," Aunt Zee said, engulfing Hadley in another hug. "But it's complicated and I'm not even sure I understand it at all."

"Maybe the Wildlings will have an answer." Hadley said, deeply morose as the words slipped out.

Aunt Zee stayed silent but hugged her tighter.

Hadley raced back to her cubicle to hide the apple in her harvest bag, before finally making it to the Cafeteria for breakfast. She smiled at the sight of large waffles, heavy whipped cream, and canned fruit at the counter. It had been one hell of a morning and she was hungry, especially after the visit with her aunt. Most people had already served breakfast, which meant the line for food wasn't longer than five or six people. The queue did give Hadley some time to take in the sights and sounds of the cafeteria one last time.

The Cafeteria was a large room with high ceilings and lots of high windows and skylights that poured natural light into the room. There were twenty long wooden tables with metallic legs and matching straight-back chairs organised in aisles. Each table sat ten women or girls across from each other, but they could seat twelve, with two chairs at the ends for when the Elders were present, which was rare. Elders were always busy keeping the Compound functioning behind the scenes, especially at mealtimes when everyone else was here and out of their way.

The ten women seated at each table made up a Cohort. In every Cohort each girl or woman was of the same age, born on the same day of the same year. Everyone in the Compound was born on the same day of the year, January first. Infants stayed with their mothers. The one-year-old to five-year-old girls had little tables and chairs on the sides of the cafeteria where they could eat with their friends and play, under the watchful eyes of their parents whose tables were close by. Hadley watched a group of little girls choreographing a dance, and a few others sitting cross-legged in a hurdle, animated in an intense discussion, likely planning something naughty.

One little girl ran up to Hadley and hid behind her legs as her friends chased after her. It puled Hadley out of her thoughts just in time to realise that she was next in line for food. Hadley's breakfast ration was a few grams more than the day before, same as the other nine girls of her Cohort. The gradual increase in their food portions had started right after their twentieth birthday. Their meal rations would increase over time, plateauing after three months and then tapering off back to normal nine months later, after they'd all borne their baby girls. Hadley walked over to her table, precariously balancing the full, rather than the usual half, glass of milk on her tray.

"There she is! Our sexy little Elder-to-be!" Billy called out as Hadley found her seat. All the other girls from her Cohort were already halfway through breakfast.

"Weren't you just appraising the sexiness of Ramona from the seventeens?" Crystal said, sipping on her glass of milk.

"Hey, I can appraise the sexiness of more than one woman at a time, thank you very much," Billy hit back. All ten girls were close, but Billy and Crystal had been best friends forever. Hadley and the others were certain that the two would become partners and raise their daughters together. They'd been lovers for years.

"You certainly did during the birthday bash," Crystal said, rolling her eyes.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy that," Billy said in a conspiratorial tone. "And, if I remember correctly, you helped. A lot."

Crystal gave a coy smile.

Jael suddenly said, "I remember."

That had everyone on the table in hysterics. It was funny because you'd never really think Jael was listening to anyone around her. She was always focussed on tinkering with some bit or bob in her hands, pulling out multitools and other components from her pockets while she ate. Even now, her eyes were glued on a palm-sized metallic contraption that she was working on.

Billy drained her glass of milk and burped. "You know what I can't wait for? I can't wait for Conception Day! I'm ready for the Elders to stop being all crazy about the ceremony dresses. Nothing against your mums, Hadley and Jael."

Hadley smiled. "No need to apologize. I'm over it myself."

"Agreed," said Jael. She smiled wistfully, slid the metallic device she'd been tinkering with into her pocket and looked up at them, probably for the first time that morning. "I can't wait to be pregnant and be treated like a princess."

"That is pretty good," Hadley agreed with a pensive look in her eyes. It was true. She couldn't wait to be pregnant and birth her daughter.

Just not here.

Disconnecting.

The impending darkness slowly coating her mind had a name.

"Especially you, Hadley! Medic, pregnant and future Elder? They'll worship you," said Jamila, who sitting next to Hadley. She hadn't spoken the whole time, but that was normal. Billy was loud and talkative enough for all of them, so they let her command most mealtime conversations.

Hadley smiled, crushing that bittersweet emotion that had been taunting and tormenting her all morning. This time she didn't mind the darkness taking her emotions away with it. She turned to Jamila. "Me? What about you, Jay? Your body is built for pregnancy. You'll be even more impossibly gorgeous than you already are. And I can't wait to enjoy it."

"Are you officially asking me out, Lee?" asked Jamila.

"Oooh!" Billy, of course. Crystal swatted Billy's arm to shut her up, but everyone around the table turned to face Hadley and Jamila. The two had been on and off for most of their lives, but never really declared anything formal between them. Everyone at the table waited with bated breath for Hadley's reply.

Jamila had golden eyes draped with long lashes that she could bat in the sexiest way. Coupled with her shoulder length, jet black hair, her foxy smile, and her seductive curves, getting any attention from her was heart stopping. While Jamila had been the most desirable woman in their Cohort ever since their Second Initiation at thirteen, Hadley was the most important, politically speaking. It was well known that the person an Elder chose as partner was more than likely to be chosen as the second Elder from the Cohort. Love was revered in the Compound. Hadley had tasted everyone on this table, and on several other tables, but she'd never chosen the one she wanted to come home to. It was a hot gossip topic. Even her mother had mentioned it once or twice before.

"I don't know if I want to break all the hearts I will if I do," Hadley finally said to Jamila, though her smile turned suggestive.

They were more friends than they were lovers, but Hadley felt closer to Jamila than she did to anyone else and they were amazing in bed. If Hadley wasn't literally losing her mind and facing the reality that her daughter might as well, Jamila was enough of a reason for her to stay at the Compound.

"You know I'm open to sharing you," Jamila replied without missing a beat, her hooded eyes glossy with lust.

Disconnecting.

The word rattled around in Hadley's mind, killing everything positive it touched.

Making an impulsive choice, borne from the desperation to prove that she could still fight the darkness inside her, and the realisation of how much she was going to miss these women once she left the Compound, Hadley invaded Jamila's personal space and kissed her. A sensual, possessive kiss. Jamila tasted of strawberry preserves and smelt like citrus. But more than that, she tasted like home. The other girls whooped and drummed the table in delight calling attention from other tables. A few women from other Cohorts joined in the revelry.

Hadley pulled out of the kiss and whispered in her ear, enjoying the shiver than ran through Jamila. "You don't have to share me for now."

They went back to eating their breakfast. Table talk fell back to the topic of Conception Day and dresses and Compound gossip. Hadley soaked up as much of the emotions from all the girls around her as she could and captured these memories for those days she'd need them more than food or water. She was really going to miss this.

But she didn't have a choice.

She was disconnecting.

In the end, none of it would matter.