“I want to show you something,” Teacher whispered to Ophelia.
Ophelia had delegated the dinner duties—cooking, serving, and cleaning—to different teens with the menial tasks rotated between them. The process had streamlined nicely since then, giving her some room to breathe in the evenings. With a nod to the lead of cleaning, Lysander, Ophelia followed Teacher.
Side by side, they walked across the epoxycrete floor, the reek of mildew dripping from every ceiling vent. Humidity hung thick as the children around them finished their meals and quietly unrolled their sleeping bags. Ophelia gave a wide berth to one of the many epoxycrete support beams rising from the floor up into the high rise above. No hovercars parked down here. None of the residents of this apartment could afford one of tho
