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My eyes follow the taut muscles that run the length of his back, the way they pull against his skin as he rises and falls. There’s a brutality to his movements, the distinct impression he’s punishing himself.

He does this every morning. Push-ups. Sit ups. Balancing exercises. At first, I thought it was just his regular routine, but then I realized that there was something else going on.

He’s distracting himself from my visits from Margaret.

The unlocking of the door draws my attention away from his muscular form. Like clockwork, Margaret arrives, holding two trays of food in her hands. “Rise and shine, sweet Imogene.” She says this every day, cheerful and unrelenting. The exact opposite of how I feel.

Rex flips on his back and begins the sit-up phase of his routine, eyes focused on the wall. Margaret slides his tray through the small opening at the base of the wall, then carries mine into my section.

The food smells good. Eggs and bacon, homemade biscuits. Everything sourced from Serendee. Anex hasn’t been limiting either of our meals. A quick glance tells me Rex has an appropriately larger portion than I do, but one thing is for certain, our leader is allowing me more calories. Margaret explained that the first day she delivered food.

“Anex is a genius, but like all men, the female body is something of a mystery. I explained that by reducing your intake he could be inadvertently stopping your menstruation.”

So, right. He’s letting me eat again so I can be fertile. For the equinox.

“Here’s your supplements,” she says, resting the tray on the end of the bed and handing me a small cup of pills, followed by a cup of water. She watches as I take each one, swallowing and showing her the inside of my mouth to confirm. “Good girl. Now, time to check.”

Every time she mentions the “check” my cheeks burn hot. “There’s no need. Nothing has changed.”

Margaret shakes her head. “We go through this every morning, Imogene. You know I need to look for myself.”

“Why? So you can humiliate me?” My eyes snap over to Rex who hasn’t missed a crunch. “I’m not bleeding. I promise, I’ll let you know if and when it happens.”

She frowns, a flicker of empathy crossing her face. “Is that what this is about? Your feelings of insecurity, like you’re less of a woman because you’re not having your period?”

“What?” I stare at her like she’s lost her mind. For the record, she has. She lost it the second she stepped into Serendee and fell into Anex’s trap. Again, I glance across the room at the man who made me realize I’m more than the parameters that Serendee has placed around me. Rex. Silas. Levi. Elon. They taught me to be a real woman. Rex never stops his movements but his head tilts slightly, and I know he’s listening. “Unlike you, I don’t feel less female without falling into Anex’s antiquated version of womanhood. I don’t need to bleed to feel complete.”

I yank up the hem of my dress and pull down my pristine white panties. I toss them at her and she catches them in her hand. If my rant affected her, she shows no sign of it, not when she checks the crotch of the panties for signs of menstruation, or when she fishes a clean pair out of her skirt pocket and hands them to me.

“It’ll be best for you,” her eyes flick to Rex’s back, “for all of us, Imogene, if you stop being a petty bitch and remember your place.”

“I’m a captive no matter what I do, so if I want to be a petty bitch, I will.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What happens if my period doesn’t start before the equinox? What if it doesn’t happen at all? Does he keep me locked away forever?”

“It will happen because Anex wills it. It is The Way, Imogene. When will you realize this is out of your hands?”

I refuse to answer, and she stares at me, unblinking. I do the same, refusing to back down. I know I can’t beat Anex. I know my life is fucked. But holding my own against this woman, this manipulator, feels good.

At least for a minute.

The rest of the morning falls into a routine. Rex has the grace to look away as I tug on the clean panties and use the toilet. I do the same for him, although it’s futile. When Rex urinates, I’m reminded of horses at the stable. Does a man’s bladder always hold so much? Is that what I sound like?

We’ve each been given two sets of clothes. Mine are thin dresses. While Rex floods the earth with his heavy stream, I start to lift my dress over my head when I notice he quiets. I sense something, turning my head. He’s watching.

“Will you show me?”

It’s an ask. Not a demand. He’s careful with his words, careful not to sound like Margaret. It’s a subtle change. I know what he wants. He’s asked me every day. Always my decision. I turn around fully and remove the dress.

“It looks better.” I know he’s lying because his forehead stretches upward when he sees my breasts.

I glance down at the mottled flesh, a mixture of yellow and purple. I make a face. “Thank you for saying so, but you and I both know I look awful.”

He shakes his head and presses his hand flat against the clear divider. “You’re beautiful.”

“Stop.” I reach for my dress. “I’m not beautiful.”

“Don’t cover yourself. Not yet.” His voice is deep, impossible to say no to, and I find myself standing in front of him, exposed. His gaze rakes over me. “Jesus, Imogene. I know you don’t believe me, but you’re the prettiest, sexiest, thing I’ve seen.” His other hand shifts to thefront of his pants and I see his erection straining at the fabric. “I’d tear down this wall to get to you, if I could, to kiss those bruises away and make new ones if you’d let me.”

My heart pounds and I press my palm against his, the plastic in between. “I’d let you,” I confess. “I’d let you do anything you wanted to me.”