My phone was still charging when the girls got home, but at least I managed to have dinner mostly ready for them. The lack of connection to the outside world had made me jittery before; now I was solidly back to myself and grateful for technology.
“Hey, Ash,” Victoria greeted as she plopped herself down in a chair. “Did you hear about Miss Tuney down the street?”
I shook my head and plated up some chicken for her, making sure to add a healthy helping of green beans.
“She had to go to the hospital - there were fire trucks and everything,” Liza said, setting her backpack down by the stairs before coming to the table.
“Brandon said she was soulsick,” Victoria explained.
I shook my head and wagged a finger at her.
“It’s not a rumor!” she protested. “Brandon’s her son. He would know.”
“He thinks her mark faded,” Liza added. “It’s still there, just lighter. I don’t get it, though. Miss Tuney - she was matched perfectly. Mister Tuney died a long time ago, so it can’t be a bad match, right?”
I pulled my phone and started up our normal app. “Soulsickness isn’t real,” I texted them. “It’s just hype. Soulmarks are forever.”
“Then how do explain all those cases on tv?” Victoria demanded. “And Miss Tuney? And why’s your battery so low?”
“Brandon is probably scared, and imagining it,” I texted, then had to rush to turn off the burners before I accidentally burned the last portions of food. “Something’s eating my battery. Haven’t found what yet.”
“No new apps?” Liza asked.
That was a stupid question. Of course I would have suspected those first. A three year old knew that much.
“Sorry. Just asking.”
“Do you really think soul sickness isn’t real?” Victoria asked quietly as I sat down with my plate.
I resigned myself to another cold meal as I put together an answer. “I think they really are sick, and they are mostly people with bad matches, or almost-matched. But I also know the media doesn’t know - or show - everything and there could be good matches that are also getting sick. Miss Tuney proves that. She was a good match.”
“That’s a long message,” Victoria mumbled impatiently.
I looked the text over then sent it to them. It was enough to get them thinking, at least, as we ate our food.
“But marks do fade,” Liza said as she chewed slowly, careful to swallow before speaking. “They have proof.”
“Faders don’t get sick just because they’re faders,” I texted. “Look at your dad. He’s a fader, and he’s still healthy.” Uncle’s mark was gone now, and he’d made the transition from Fader to Markless when I was in grade school. I thought it had more to do with his belief that marks were rubbish than anything else.
This set the girls to discussing between themselves again, trying to decide if soulsickness was real or not. In the end it was just a word; like heartsick, soulsick described a state of being, an emotional feeling, rather than an illness.
If anyone knew anything about it, the labs at Prince Enterprises would. That wasn’t the kind of information they shared freely; the research division was downtown and had more security than the president. I’d wanted to work there for the longest time, but they only hired those with degrees. Degrees took money, and money didn’t fall from the sky.
“I’m tired,” Liza yawned as she set her plate in the sink.
“It’s early,” ‘toria frowned. “Well, sort of. Why isn’t dad home yet?”
I shrugged, and Victoria mirrored it before picking her phone up to text him. I’d waited for him for ten minutes before deciding to take the bus; he was probably hanging around work hoping for a Ball invite.
It was possible Mr. Prince and his secretary were still there. The woman had been so close to saying my words; I tried to imagine kissing her, or holding her, or taking her on a date. There wasn’t an immediate urge to go see her or a desire to touch and be touched. I wasn’t really excited about it - in any sense of the word. She was beautiful, and attractive, and kind, and almost.
Did I want to settle for almost? Was I too invested in an immediate spark that I couldn’t see potential fires?
I itched to check my phone and see if there had been a response to my post. Within a day I’m sure someone would tell me to go for it, and someone else would warn me about fading and mark damage. Soulsick wasn’t really a thing, but fading was as real as it got. Knowing I was going to get both responses made me wonder why I had posted at all. Was I being stupid? The forums wouldn’t help. I had no way of knowing how qualified any of them were, or who they were, or what they wanted.
Liza almost slipped on the stairs, as usual, and her yelp snapped my thoughts away from the downward turn. I plugged my phone back in - 20%, getting better - and started loading the dishwasher.
“Dad says he’s working late and not to wait up,” Victoria said with a pout. “I was hoping he could help me with my math. Do you have time?”
I nodded and motioned for her to get her books while I cleared her place at the table and packed up Uncle’s portion. Maybe he’d be hungry when he got home.
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