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Rebecca's grin broadened as we sat together, and tucked into a dinner meant for royalty.

***

I peeked my eyes open when the sun streamed into Sam's bedroom window. She wasn't in bed beside me, and I stretched my legs out into the cool sheets. My mind wandered to the events of yesterday and the knowledge that soon my mother would walk the streets again. An order of protection, as a piece of paper, couldn't stop her from doing anything. She would have consequences, but it held no power over her will. Even so, as a free citizen, she had the right to be in the community, to shop, eat, whatever. I could run into her at any time. Just the thought of it made me never want to step foot in a store again.

Sam wandered back into the bedroom, her quiet steps cautious as she gripped the towel wrapped around her. Wet hair dripped down her back as she opened her closet door to step inside. I couldn't help smiling at her, knowing she hadn't discovered my consciousness, and watched as she went about her usual routine. When I rolled to my side, the welted flesh of my rear stung and it sent a shiver of delight up my spine. I loved when she spanked me, that was no longer a secret, and sometimes I wished that I healed faster so she could do it more often. Skin had limits, and the fine line between pleasure and pain proved to be rather delicate.

When she emerged from the closet, jeans and a long-sleeve sweater draped over her arm, I noted that her expression appeared drawn and tense. She set everything down on the footlocker bench at the edge of the bed before drawing her attention to me. The corner of her mouth twitched and she broke into a smile.

"Hi, my sweet," she crooned, taking a seat on the bed by my hip.

"Hi, baby. What time is it?"

"Around nine."

"You're up early," I said, stifling a yawn. She nodded, but didn't say anything as she stroked my legs on top of the blanket. "You're seeing your mom today."

"Yeah."

"I'm coming with you, Sam. Don't argue with me about it. Even if I just sit in the car, I don't care. You've supported me through everything and I want to be there for you."

"No, Rosie. I want you to stay here and wait for me to come back." She shook her head and I sat up so that we faced each other properly.

"No. I'm coming with you." I took her hand in mine and she gave me a squeeze. "Please?"

She shook her head, her gaze dropping to the space between us.

"Sam...look at me," I implored. It took her a second but she obliged. "Let me. I can handle it. I'll do whatever you want me to do, and say what you want me to say. Just let me be with you."

She dragged her thumb over my knuckles a few times, though her silence remained. "Even if I say you're my girlfriend, she'll call you my friend."

"I can handle it."

"If any other family members are there…"

"I don't care. I understand intolerant people, Sami. I do. At least you won't be alone. Okay?"

"My uncle is the worst of them all. Everyone else turns a blind eye or ignores me, but he's cruel." Her warnings continued and I brought her hand to my lips.

"I understand, okay?"

Her lips pursed and she stared out the window for a moment. "I'm giving in to you."

"I know. Is it difficult?"

"Yes." She drew a deep breath before looking back to me. "Not all Muslim women wear hijab. I do because it shuts my mother up and the family."

"I'll do what I need to, Sami. To be a support for you." I hugged her hand to my chest.

"I'm going to regret letting you win this," she said, stroking a single finger down my cheek before standing. "I know I am."

"Did you ever let Marita win?" I slid from the bed and tugged one of her robes around me.

"No."

"Anyone?"

"No." Again, her lips pursed and she began to dress.