An ominous feeling sets into my heart—heavy pounds plucking away at my heartstrings and starting a dark, impending melody filled with uncertainty and doubt—as I clear away the crumbs scattered around the table like stars decorating the night sky's cloak. My parents had left in a hurry this morning, racing against the continuously ticking clock to get to their work on time. After that shock afternoon two days ago with the horrifying new law announcement, my parents each picked up two extra hours, causing them to now wake up before the sun rises and return long after the sun has disappeared.

I barely wanted to step outside yesterday and go to Owen's family's mansion, but I went, knowing that the presense of Brian and Luna would make me feel better than if I were alone. Their comforting words made me feel like I wasn't alone, and I found a little courage—a ghostly glimmer of hope shining through the thick, riotous clouds. That light grew stronger when I passed through the Market and heard sounds of protest. A small group, gathered near the corner to remain hidden, whispered about a protest. There were posters, written by hand and taped on different walls of the Market, talking about how the law was unfair and join him in a protest. With a soaring heart, I had hoped things might work out, that the government might see what will happen if they decide to take money from the Lowers.

Now, as I pass the walls surrounding the Market, I can feel the uneasiness of the atmosphere. The hope was gone. Replacing it was the hopelessness underneath that was building ever since the announcement is now at its peak, a turmoil of violent storms and raging ocean waves inside everyone's hearts. All throughout my entire trip to the mansion, I hear conversations buzzing with complaints and worried murmurs of family plans. Closing my eyes even tighter, I will myself to any strength I have to power through the inner pain and get to the mansion. The last image in my mind before I escape the haunting noises sends a shiver through me. The same poster as yesterday, the ones talking about the protests are now slightly torn. Upon closer inspection, I can clearly tell the difference. Because there was a large strike going straight through a picture of the runner of the fish stand. Underneath his picture is scribbled in red, Get him. No. This cannot be happening. How did they even find out that it was him? My heart sinks further into a void as I think of what will happen to him. His family. This is bad. I know that I have spent too long dwelling over this, and to make up for the time lost, I start in a run toward the mansion. When I arrive, I knock lightly on the door and with quick breathing and a pounding heart, hope that they answer quickly. I really need to talk to them about what I just saw. The horrors that I saw and envisioned are too harsh to bear alone, and even though I feel guilty with burdening them, a part of me is secretly relieved that I have great friends like them who are willing to share this baggage.

"Hi Raine," Brian greets me as he opens the door. "Feeling any better today?"
"Just a tiny bit, but I'm shaking from what I just saw. Are you guys busy right now?"

"Not really," he answers. "The Masters are at work and Owen's out of the house right now. Why don't you come in?"
"Alright," I say as I step inside.

He walks to the servant's quarter, which is one of the two places where we talk and socialize.

"Hi, Luna," I greet.

Looking up from her hand, she pauses shuffling her cards and replies, "Hi, Raine. Are you feeling better?"
"Just a tiny bit," I reply. "But I have some bad news."

"What is it?" she asks as Brian sits down next to her.

"Have you guys gone to the Market recently?"
Luna raised her hand.

"I did yesterday," she says. "Are you talking about those posters? I saw them and heard people talking about a protest. A rally. Whatever it was. What's wrong now?"
"Exactly the same thing. The author of the posters was found out and I scared of what will happen to him. How bad do you think it will be?"

Sucking in a deep breath, Brian says, "You're right. The president will definitely not tolerate any sign of an riot. If there is any sign, he's going to find out who did it and get rid of them as soon as he can."
Swallowing, I ask, "What do you mean by get rid of them?"

"Raine," he sighs. "You know I don't like talking about it just as much as you don't. Don't make me say it."

"I'll say it then, if neither of you are willing to face the hole that he dug himself. It's a capital offense. He and his family are going to face the punishment."
Just as I was about look up—open my eyes to face her—ask her how she could be so cold–so heartless and unempathetic—when I saw tears forming inside her eyes. I realize that she was just as broken—just as upset, just as torn—over this news. She was only trying to be strong for us. Standing up, I wrap her in a hug.

"It'll be alright," I say. "Maybe we're just assuming the worst. Maybe it won't be that bad."

"Let's just hope," she replies.

"It'll be alright," Brian chimes in. "We're just assuming the worst."

For a second we sit in silence until I decide we need a distraction and speak up, "Anyone want to play Vix?"
The murmurs of agreement settle my beating heart and for that short moment, I let ourselves believe everything will be alright.

We instantly quiet ourselves when we hear the front door open. Glancing at the clock as Brian cleans the last of his cards, we quickly dart into the kitchen to start dinner. I start off by helping Luna with washing the vegetables—asparagus for roasting and kale for a cream soup—while Brian turns on the stove. Slowly, he heats the pan while at the same time getting a pot of water ready to boil. While Luna finishes up washing the rest of the vegetables, I season the three filets of beef with salt, pepper, paprika, and other spices. As soon as the pan gets hot enough, Brian adds the oil and garlic and gently places in each of the filets of beef. Searing each side, he makes sure that the beef is completely seared before he places butter and thyme on the top of the steak and basts it. Then, he puts all the steaks on a baking tray to continue cooking it in the oven. While he watches the steaks, I drop a handful of kale into the boiling water to cook as Luna roasts the asparagus in the same pan that Brian used to sear the beef. After she finishes roasting the asparagus and I finish the cream of kale soup, Brian takes the steaks out of the oven and sets them on a resting rack. There is just something so calming about our comfortable silence and teamwork together in the kitchen that I almost completely forget about all of the struggles that Lowers are facing. Turning to face the counter with the pot in my hand, I spoon a serving of soup in individual bowls before leaving to set the table. After I finish setting the table, I return to the kitchen to see Brian plating the steak and asparagus while Luna pours the drinks.

"I'll get started on the dessert," I tell her. "Can you tell them to come downstairs?"

Nodding, Luna leaves to invite the Masters to dinner and I combine gelberries and pineapple with milk. Pouring the mixture into a container, I seal it before placing it in a larger container of ice and salt. Shaking viciously for about five minutes, I set down the container to check. Perfect. It is finished, and I take the container with the ice cream, set it in a bowl of ice and salt, and put it in the freezer to keep until Owen and his parents have finished dinner.

Luna walks soon after into the kitchen and, grabbing the soups and putting them on a serving tray, brings it out to the dining room.

She returns shortly after with slight tears in her eyes glinting in the light, and I ask, "Did they say anything?"

Shaking her head, she says, "No. Just keep thinking about what will happen to the man. His family."
"It'll be alright, Luna," Brian tells her. "There's no way they will be crazy enough to kill an entire family over some desperate attempt to survive."

With shaky breaths, she nods and brings the steaks out to the dining room. After Luna calms down from her panic, we finish up serving dinner and clean the plates. We sit around for a while, whispering about what we thought would happen to the man. Confused to why Luna was reacting so intensely for someone she didn't know, Brian and I are surprised to find out that the runner of the fish stand—named Aidan—is actually Luna's uncle. Shock courses through us and the thought instantly takes our breaths away. Suddenly I feel guilty for saying that everything would be alright when they clearly weren't. When I try to comfort her, she just shakes her head. Saddened, Brian tells me to go home, tells me that he and Luna will sleep at the servants' quarter today. With my mind jumbled, I run home in a daze. When I get home, I immediately start making dinner for my family. Taking out the relatively cheap vegetables—compared to meats or fish—I make a light salad with lettuce, shredded carrots, beans, and cucumbers. Seasoning it with salt and pepper, I turn and cut three slices of bread from the loaf I got a couple of days ago from the baker. Taking out three plates—the only three we were given, actually, by the government—and set the the bread and salad on top. Glancing at the clock, I notice that I have about a few minutes before my parents should return home.

"Raine? Are you home?" comes my mother's fluid voice as she opens the door and steps inside, my father right behind her.

"Right here," I answer. "I made dinner."
As we sat down at the table, I could feel the absolute exhaustion running through both of them.

"Tired?" I ask.

My father attempts a weak smile.

"Just slightly. How was your day?" he answers.

"It could have been better. Did you two see the posters? The ones with the protest?"
"The ones that Aidan made? It's too bad that he'll face severe punishment for what he had done, but I was a last-ditch attempt. His two children are 12 and 14, so they can't quite work yet and he and his wife are working overtime to even be able to put food on the table. There was no way he'd survive with the new law."

"You knew about it?" I ask.
"Yes," my mother replies. "He was sure it would do something."

"But it won't?" I ask.

"It's very unlikely that anyone would dare," says my mother.

"And what do you think he'll face?" I ask again.

"Capital offense. It's going to be the punishment," my father intervenes.

"And you know that for sure?"

"Not for sure," my mother says. "But enough to be fairly certain. We can still have hope though."

"Actually, I'm a little tired today. Can I go to bed?"
Wrapping me in a hug, my father says, "Of course. I'll clean up. Goodnight, Raine."

"Good night, father. Good night, mother." That night, I drown myself in tears at the pain that Luna will go through. Right before I surrender myself to the darkness of sleep, I remind myself to keep hope—to have faith—for Luna's sake. 

Author's Note

Q: What is your favorite subject?
A: Mine is math and writing!

Thank you guys so much for reading this! If you enjoyed this chapter, please give it a vote and comment any thoughts/suggestions. I truly want to take this moment to thank all of you for your support and everything you've done for me!

Next chapter - Monday, 2/4/19!