I was going to skip ahead a bit in this, but since I’ve discovered what a violent and bloodthirsty bunch you all are I figured I’d better let you know who was on the other side of Taliya’s door.
So, picking up from last week, Taliya has braced herself for further confrontation with her mother.
The usual creative punctuation warnings apply.
(For anyone coming into this for the first time, I’m posting a few excerpts from a science fiction novel-in-editing called The Onyx Sun.)
The door inched open and one of the maids hesitantly stepped into the room, shielding herself with her linen cart.
“Emla,” Taliya’s voice was softer as relief swept over her, “I’m sorry I sounded so curt – I was expecting my mother.”
“We all feel like that about her, ” Emla said with a sympathetic smile as she slipped into the room and closed the door. “We heard you are leaving?”
“News travels fast,” Taliya replied wryly.
“Please. If you leave, then there will be no one – no one who will help us, who will stand up to her.” Taliya closed her eyes against the pain: she felt the same way with her grandmother gone. “She is already cutting our wages…”
“I’m sorry, Emla, but I can’t stay here. I can’t live with her rules, can not – will not – live a lie by trying to be what she wants me to be.”
The first round of paper edits have been finished but I still need to make changes in the Word doc, and then decide if it gets another round of paper edits before it goes in search of beta readers.
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