Rise An Eve Novel

it, not stopping until I’d studied all the rooms. The girls were just as young as the others, their faces unfamiliar.
    When I reached the sixth floor landing, a female soldier was stationed outside the door. I’d hardly noticed I was running. My eyes were down, my hair clinging to my damp skin. “Can I help you?” she asked. A scar cut through her top lip, the skin white and raised.
    “I need to find girls from one of the Schools,” I said. “I’m looking for a girl named Pip—red hair, fair skin. She’s five months pregnant or so.”
    The soldier went to the edge of the banister and peered over, down into the hollow space in the center of the stairs. “What did you say?” she asked, turning back to me. She held the butt of the rifle out, just inches from my chest, to prevent me from going any farther. “Who are you?”
    I held up my hands. “I’m Genevieve—the King’s daughter. I was at the School myself.”
    The woman considered me. “The one with red hair? From the School in northern Nevada?”
    I nodded, remembering the city I’d seen on maps. I’d spent so many years referring to the School by its coordinates, as if it were the only thing that existed in that place. Now it was hard to think of it as an actual town where people had lived before the plague, somewhere someone called home . “You know her?”
    Without saying anything she unlocked the door and went through it, leaving enough space for me to pass. Only one light was on in the long hall. Two female soldiers were stationed along the corridor. One glanced up from a tattered book with a dinosaur on the cover—something called Jurassic Park . “I might know who you’re talking about,” the soldier with the scar said. “She was in the Jeep I came in on. We had about ten girls in the back.”
    The queasy, light feeling in my stomach returned as I glanced into the rooms where the girls slept. They were all around my age, some a bit older, their swollen bellies visible beneath the blankets. They couldn’t have been more than six months pregnant—the girls who were further along must’ve been deemed too fragile to move.
    Now, with them so close, I tried to keep the fantasies contained. How many times had I walked through the City, imagining Arden beside me, or stared at the empty seat across from me during afternoon tea, wondering what it would be like if Pip was there? I still set aside a portion of my chocolate cake out of habit, knowing it was Ruby’s favorite. I understood what it must’ve been like to come here after the plague, to be one of the citizens who’d lost every friend, every member of their family. My friends’ ghosts followed me always, appearing and disappearing when I least expected them.
    “She’s back there,” the soldier said, gesturing to a cot at the other end of the room, just below the window. I stood frozen, looking at the girls’ faces, their eyelids fluttering in sleep. Violet, a dark-haired girl who’d lived in the room beside us, was turned on her side, her pillow tucked between her knees. I recognized Lydia, who’d studied art with me. She’d made so many versions of the same ink drawing—a woman in bed, a towel pressed to her nose, trying to stop the blood.
    It was like walking through a dreamscape, the faces familiar but the circumstances changed. I couldn’t comprehend it, even knowing what I knew—even now. I approached Pip.
    Her hair had grown out, the waves loose as they fell down her back. She was curled away from me, facing the wall beneath the window, one hand resting on her stomach. “Pip—wake up,” I said, sitting on the cot. I touched her elbow, startling her.
    “What’s wrong?” She turned her head, and her face was suddenly visible in the dim light. The high cheekbones, the thick, dark brows that always made her look so serious. It was Maxine, the girl who’d speculated that the King was coming for our graduation, after overhearing a conversation between Teachers. “Eve?” she asked, sitting up. “What are you doing here?”
    “I thought you were Pip,” I said, sliding back on the dusty cot. “I didn’t realize.”
    Maxine just stared at me. Her skin had a strange yellowish tint to it. There were sores on her wrists where restraints had been. “They left,” she said. “Pip, Ruby, and Arden. No one has seen them in more than three weeks.”
    I stood, searching the room once more, studying the faces of the girls, as if looking twice could change what was