Rise An Eve Novel

behind the trees. They went out every morning, alone, gathering berries and wild grapes. I didn’t know if it would ever seem like enough time here. Three days or thirty, when I left I’d be leaving them all over again.
    I pulled my sweater down, over the width of my stomach, making sure it was covered. Every day my body felt different. I’d traded my worn jeans for wider pants, adjusting the belt. My breasts were swollen and sore, my face fuller, and I could feel my stomach expanding out, growing harder to conceal. I hadn’t wanted to tell the girls. I’d imagined how it would change their perception of me, that I might seem weaker, more vulnerable if they knew. When we were back on the road, dividing our meager supplies, I didn’t want them worrying that there wasn’t enough. Beatrice and Clara had already insisted on sharing their small portions, trying to keep up my energy on the way to the dugout.
    Then there was Caleb. It had been so long since I’d spoken his name out loud. How could I explain what had happened between us? How could the girls understand that I’d not only spent time with him but that I had loved him? Wasn’t I just like those women the Teachers had always spoken about, ruined, in some ways, by that love? It was as though some invisible wall had been erected, separating me from everyone else. Now that Caleb was dead, what was I supposed to do with the love I still felt? Where was it all supposed to go?
    Pip and Ruby were coming closer, weaving through the trees. I could feel Clara watching them, waiting to see if they turned toward us, onto the beach. They’d decided to eat separately, taking their meals to their room for the past two days. They spent the afternoons with Benny and Silas, the mornings scavenging the woods by the lakefront, coming back with the occasional find—a plastic cup, bent fork, or unlabeled can. I hadn’t tried to speak to them since our first night. A silence had settled between us. I would think of the words to say, carefully forming another apology, then we’d pass in the corridor. Pip would barely look up, barely acknowledge me, and I’d be reminded again that it wasn’t enough. Nothing I said could ever be enough.
    Pip had a sack in one hand. She stepped beyond the trees, Ruby following behind. I watched them approach as Sarah filled one pot, then the next. “I just want to be there already,” she said. “I feel like this whole time I’ve just been waiting. You and Beatrice keep talking about all these things we’ll have at Califia, but it just reminds everyone of what we don’t have now.”
    “We’ll leave soon,” I promised, dipping my pot into the water.
    My gaze returned to Ruby and Pip. Pip glanced up, and for a moment her face changed, her eyes meeting mine, her lips twisting to one side in an almost smile. She came toward us, holding my gaze for the first time since we’d arrived. “We found some black willow bark,” she said. She pulled the brown flakes from the sack, then looked from me to Helene. “I heard your leg was hurting you last night. This might help.”
    Sarah set the pot of water onto the beach, her brows knitted together, as if not quite certain it was Pip who was speaking. She’d ignored most of the girls since our fight. “You eat it?” Sarah asked.
    Ruby pointed to the pot of water. “You boil it, then drink the tea. Pip has been reading a book we found in the dugout about natural remedies. Black willow bark helps with pain.” Ruby offered Helene her arm, trying to ease her onto her feet. “Why don’t you two come with me. We can make it now, then you’ll have plenty for tonight. We can even make some for your trip.” She took one of the pots from Sarah, and they started up the beach. Ruby glanced back, nodding to me before she left.
    Pip settled down on the beach. She dug her feet into the sand, her toes just grazing the lake’s edge. “She thinks I should talk to you.” She stared straight ahead as she said it, looking out over the lake.
    So she was sitting here because Ruby told her to? Now that she’d done it, begrudgingly, she couldn’t even look at me. How long was I supposed to wait here in this desperate, pleading place of apology, hoping she’d forgive me? “And what do you think?” I asked.
    Pip brushed a few tangled curls away from her face. In the daylight I could see her freckles had faded, the gray circles under her eyes making her look perpetually tired. “I think she’s right,”