Spoiler: Music “Sold it all?” “Yeah,” Ana said, dragging on a garette. “Could have made a fortune laundering money.” “Never said I didn’t.” “He knew about it?” “It was for the kids.” The night life echoes of wasted men and women dancing arm in arm rolled down Daenshore’s slanted, brick buildings. Ana and Juanita shared tabacca smokes on the barnacle-crusted docks as salt water sprayed the swaying Daen Tartanes at sea. “Took it and ran?” “Could’ve. Should’ve." Ana shrugged. "Paid for their schooling.” “Your idea?” “Ours. It was holding us back.” “Shouldn’t have married.” “Better than sleeping with blue bloods.” “Thought he was one.” “Was. He turned his back to it.” Juanita tapped the molten ashes off the tip of her paper-rolled tabacca. “And your kids?” “With the rest of them.” Juanita snorted. “Tight-lipped Calembergers.” “Better this way.” “They’ll never know what freedom is… Like the time we dumped bucket water on Samuela. Young and stupid.” “Paid the price for it. Got stuck cleaning her doorstep.” “Wouldn’t have if you’d pathed a better route.” “You tripped. Slowed us down.” Ana reminisced over the memory and exhaled a puff of smoke. “Don’t you miss that?” Juanita asked. “No… Just grew up.” “And your choice to leave them?” “Not what you think.” “Your habits are back and you haven’t stopped drinking.” “He can take care of them,” Ana reasoned. “They’re as much his kids as they are yours.” “I’m not getting involved anymore. I did it, alright? I did my job.” “You’re just going to walk away from everything you’ve built?” Ana flicked the garette butt into the sea, waves crashing over. “It’s just not me.” “Please just settle. It’s been years. You have money. You’ve got a husband. Kids. You made it out and that’s better than the rest of us are ever gonna get.” “I can’t. I can’t even look away. Our people deserve better and you can’t say they don’t.” Juanita looked out at sea. Regalia was many miles out, filled with fat-pocket aristocrats and Ithanians vomiting their wine just to drown in more. “You’re really going to do it,” Juanita said. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m going back to the capital and I’m getting it done.” “You’re never going to see them again.” “I know…” “You’re okay with that?” Ana looked at her sister, intoxicated and despaired, as they shared one last garette. “I’m selfish, Juanita … I just have to do it.”
