“You don’t look so hot, sugarplum,” Ambrose said, a cup of coffee in one hand and a rolled up newspaper in the other. He stood in front of Rosemary in their tiny apartment kitchen, wearing his well-worn green bathrobe. “What’s wrong wit you? Why ya up this damn early?”

Rosemary dropped her hands from her head and placed them flat on the kitchen counter top. She turned her head to address her husband properly, despite her heavy eyes. She felt like she had bricks-for-bags under her eyes, and her head pounded like no other.

“You will do it, or I will destroy everything you love. Human.”

This continued to play in Rosemary’s head on repeat, like a broken record that simply would not stop. She was actively living in a horror movie, and she wasn’t sure who all was on the script’s death list. If she didn’t at least try to save her own family, though, then everybody was as good as dead. 

While Waves very well could have waited for her to leave for the apartment to find out where she lived on his own, Rosemary refused to tell her husband anything about the threat. There was no telling what Ambrose would do to protect them, and he would most certainly tell Milly about it. The domino effect that played out in Rosemary’s head spelled absolute disaster, so she was not having any of it.

No, Rosemary would go to work with her head held high, and she would find whoever carried Waves’ “half-breeds.” If not for her own sake, for the poor mother’s sake. Rosemary had thought long and hard about what would happen if she didn’t turn over the name while laying awake next to her husband that night. She knew, without a shred of a doubt, that Waves would find the mother regardless of what Rosemary decided to do. Even if Rosemary refused to give a name, Waves would search for either another victim after disposing of her, or look for the human himself. Both routes led to death or destruction either way, so it was better for Rosemary to just give up a name.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t warn the expecting mother first.

“Nothing's wrong, buttercup,” Rosemary said, forcing a smile. “I’m jus’ plumb tuckered and this headache been keepin’ me awake.”

“Why didn’ ya take some Ibuprofen for it?” Ambrose said and furrowed his thick brows. He looked Rosemary up and down, then placed his newspaper onto the counter. “You’re already dressed for work?”

“Ah,” Rosemary waved her hand and rested her other elbow on the counter so she could lean on it. “I gotta go in earlier today. Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Jus’ focus on getting ready for your shift. And I already took two Tylenol.”

“Mmm,” Ambrose shook his head. He reached his free hand forward to feel Rosemary’s forehead. “I’ve known ya too long to know when you’re lyin’ or playin’ tough.” He pulled his hand back just as Rosemary swatted his arm and shuffled around him. “Call off, sugarplum. They’s been workin’ you to death. Ya need a break.”

“Then you should also know as good as me that there ain’t no rest for the wicked, dear,” Rosemary quipped. She turned around—at the edge of the narrow kitchenette—and frowned at her husband. With her hands on both hips, she bellowed, “I’ll rest when they stop raisin’ the darned rent!” And she didn’t care if the neighbors heard her because they all shared the same sentiments.

“One day isn’t gonna kill ya, woman,” Ambrose sighed and dragged his hand down his face while Rosemary turned for the hallway.

Rosemary shuffled into the hallway bathroom and shut the door. She was tempted to change back into her nightgown and lay on the bed again, but she knew it would be a wasted effort. She couldn’t clear Waves’ stupid distorted voice from her head, so it was better to go in early to work and pray the grind would drown him out.

Granted, Rosemary was not scheduled for the morning shift since she’d just worked a late second shift, but she was still a supervisor in the end, so she deserved to switch up her own schedule every once-in-a-while. The second shift could pick up the slack in her absence. So, she brushed her teeth and washed her face again, and then swiftly left the apartment with only a simple “see ya after noon, love bug!” to her husband (who was still tinkering around in the kitchen, sipping his coffee).

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05:55 Hours

“G’mornin’, chile,” Rosemary said to the young woman working the cubicle closest to the door. 

The girl was one of the many high school graduates who’d flocked the call center since “The Boom” had sent a good few of Superior’s older women quitting in droves. Even those who had their unexpected babies on the same day didn’t want to return, claiming that their baby demanded constant attention because of whatever ability. Also, it didn’t help that the government decided to send stimulus checks to all the affected women—who bothered to send in an application, of course—so they wouldn’t have to work on top of taking care of their unplanned offspring. Rosemary almost wished she had been a victim so she could sit at home on her butt and collect a paycheck!

Speaking of, she offhandedly wondered if the pregnant men had been included. Did they know about the opportunity, and would they even be considered for it given they were, well, born male? 

“Oh!” The girl turned in her chair as Rosemary passed on by. “Weren’t you here last night?”

“Yessum,” Rosemary said. She smiled at the young chick. “I have some administrative business to do, dearie. Don’t worry about me.” Rosemary continued on to her actual office, ignoring the small pips from the girl that followed. She didn’t have time for idle chatter anymore.

Rosemary missed the privacy her separate room provided—if she ignored the fact the walls were made of glass, of course. Supervisors needed to be able to see the representatives hard at work at their stations, so she understood the reasoning behind it, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. A window went both ways, after all, and she didn’t like the idea of passers-by peering through the “walls” at her as she worked on the desktop. But at least the voices were muffled!

Once her purse was secured in the safe inside the filing cabinet, Rosemary crossed the room to the oak desk. And it was only after she’d sat down in her chair that she remembered all her sticky notes were still at Tanaysha’s cubicle. 

What I get for skippin’ the sleep God intended for us every night, Rosemary thought. She formed the points of the cross over herself before pushing down on the seat’s handles to help herself up.

Rosemary left her office and nodded at every employee who acknowledged her on the way to Tanaysha’s cubicle. The young girl was also on the way, but she was too engrossed in a conversation with a customer to pay Rosemary any mind. I should really get her name, Rosemary thought as she passed the young chick’s cubicle up. She tried to peer around her for a name tag, but found that the girl was still not wearing one. Oh, bless this sweet girl’s heart. She needs more guidance…

Once she arrived at Tanaysha’s cubicle, Rosemary saw that she had also left her travel mug at the desk. “Oh, my goodness am I a slob,” Rosemary chuckled to herself and reached for the tumblr amidst her notebook. She scraped all the sticky notes from the edge of the monitor and slapped them onto her notebook’s pink cover. Thankfully, she didn’t keep super sensitive information in her notebook, so she would be fine if someone had decided to snatch it up. She would definitely have trouble trying to remember what all she’d added onto her to-do lists, though. Losing the notebook would certainly be a pain, in that regard!

Rosemary left the cubicle and continued forward so she could pass around the aisles from the break in the center ahead, where the printers were kept. Mike from IT was running some cords through the passage between the two rows of cubicles, so she said hello to him. He grunted in return.

Somebody didn’t go to bed with the chickens, Rosemary thought. Perhaps she’d make him a cup of coffee alongside her own to perk him up.

Rosemary returned to her office and locked the glass door behind her. If somebody really needed her, all they needed to do was knock—and wait, of course. She then walked over to the table along the glass wall—facing the work room outside her office—and set the dirty tumblr down beside the Keurig machine. She didn’t want to bother going to the break room to wash it at the moment, so she decided to just use the disposable cups for once. Plus, she needed one for Mike, anyway, so why not use one herself? 

Rosemary plucked one of the Dunkin Donut flavored cups from the carousel and set it up in the Keurig. Then she placed one of the cups from the stack onto the filter tray and hit brew. First she’d make Mike’s black cup, and then she’d set up her own to be ready for dressing when she returned. Her husband also drank his coffee black like Mike, but Rosemary needed a little bit of cream and sugar like her daughter. Just not nearly as much as Milly used.

While Mike’s cup was filling, Rosemary meandered over to the desk and dropped her notebook on the right side of her keyboard. There was no sense in bringing that back out with her, and she thought she’d start organizing her sticky notes ahead of time.

And of course, right on top of the pile just had to be the one she’d left about the pregnant men. 

Oh, please don’t let it be one of those boys, God. Rosemary closed her eyes and prayed, breathing in deep. Being pregnant as a male was definitely bad enough, but also having Waves’ hellspawn at that? Absolute nightmare. But God had his reasons for everything, so Rosemary felt that perhaps there was some good reason for why they were dealt such a heavy hand.

And perhaps there was a good reason why Rosemary was made the judge.

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While you wait for the next episode, try checking out these other entries! Links below (author desc)!

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