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Ren shrugs. “I’m a writer. I wrote something that was kinda violent.”

“How did the Peaceful Society find out?” I ask.

“The PS? Well, it was really good, kiddo. A lot of people read it. I write a lot, and most of it isn’t about the joys of maidenhood, chastity, and dumb men. It’s about violence,” they say in a stage whisper. “And fighting.” They laugh as I barely suppress a shudder.

“Oh, Ami, so green. Ren will protect you.” With that their grin slips and Ren looks upset. Then they straighten, smiling with their mouth but not their eyes. “Maybe you’ll star in one of my stories one day.”

“Maybe,” I say.

“I’m taking a nap. Wake me up when we hit the border,” Ren announces, bunching up their hoodie and slumping against the window.

I’m on my own. I find myself sitting rigidly and force myself to relax, sag a little, act like I belong here. I try to get into the mindset of Ami, but the best I can do is watch out the window in silence and hope no one says anything to me.