Vinyl by Sophia Elaine Hanson

Author:Sophia Elaine Hanson [Hanson, Sophia Elaine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sophia Elaine Hanson
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

27: Too Far Gone

As hard as he tried, Henry could not coax her mouth into a smile. Ronja stood with her hands clasped, her shoulders back, her lips pursed, and her eyes vacant.

Ronja had only been photographed once in her life, for her official mutt documents. It was the only picture she was allowed to have of herself. She had been ill that day, her skin wan, her cheekbones sunken, her hair matted and greasy. She tried to cover the snapshot with her thumb each time she was required to produce her papers, but most Offs required her to show it. Their noses wrinkled with disgust each time.

“Three . . . two . . . ”

A blinding flash and a satisfying click. Ronja blinked rapidly. As her vision settled, she caught sight of a plume of smoke rising from the body of the camera.

“Did my face break it?” she asked.

“Surprisingly, no. That’s supposed to happen,” Henry replied.

He plucked the camera from its tripod and tucked it carefully under his arm. “I’ll develop this and print it. You and Roark can go get your stuff from the Belly.”

“Okay,” Ronja said.

She reached out toward Henry for a tentative embrace, but he shook his head, smiling slightly. “I’ll see you soon, understand?”

Ronja nodded, dropping her arms and scratching her nose to mask her disappointment.

“Ronja, are you coming or what?” Roark called from the hallway.

Ronja rolled her eyes at Henry, who responded in kind. She stalked to the door and threw it open. Roark was standing outside, his fist raised to knock again.

Ronja shouldered past him with a pointed look. He huffed and fell into step behind her.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Roark said as they descended the cracked stone steps to the sidewalk.

“You’re telling me,” Ronja said, skipping the final crumbling step and landing on the bricks with a thud. “Henry was the most compliant person I knew. Then again, he was pretty much the only person I knew.”

“He’s a convincing actor,” Roark agreed.

They walked in silence for a while. The sun was rising in earnest now, and the streets were packed with Revinians on their way to their respective pubs and places of work. Roark wore his hat low and kept his face angled toward the ground.

“Is there enough food to go around in the Belly?” Ronja asked after awhile.

“Plenty, why?”

“Henry and Charlotte struggled last winter.”

A crease formed between the heir’s dark brows.

“He should have told me,” Roark muttered, jamming his fists into his pockets like a petulant child. “I would have helped.”

Ronja shrugged. “Henry never really talks about himself,” she said, sidestepping a woman lugging a careworn briefcase. “He gives his all and asks for nothing in return. It’s part of what makes him such a good friend . . . incidentally, it’s also why I hate him.”

Roark shot her an amused look beneath the shadow of his cap. “Why is that?”

“Because he never lets me help him.”

They reached the vacant subtrain station and slipped into the alleyway. Ronja much preferred the

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