When I got back to The Palace, I took my place behind the counter and settled in for a long night. I manually turned the television off as soon as I heard Pam’s bedroom door shut upstairs. Sam came out of his room and turned Pam’s chair around to face me. He sat down and looked me over.

“How did that happen?” he asked, touching his forehead where the scratch was on my own.

“It was a misunderstanding,” I muttered.

He folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward on his knees. The silence between us was heavy. He was thin, but I noticed the lean muscles on his dark arms. The poor lighting in The Palace made the shadows between the muscles more pronounced. I leaned on the wooden counter, then stood up and began wiping down the small drawers where we kept papers and keys. I didn’t want him to catch me looking at his body, so I kept my eyes focused on what I was cleaning.

“Is Pam your grandmother or something?” Sam asked.

I kept my eyes on the dirty dust rag I had in my hand, but answered, “No, she just sort of took me in a while back when I was down on my luck. Well, I mean, I haven’t exactly regained my luck since I’ve been here, but yeah. She’s just my boss.”

“How long do you think she will let me crash here?” he asked.

I stopped wiping down the counters and looked up at him. His eyes looked big and round in the dim lighting, but kind and worried.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “Pam can be kind of hard to read sometimes.”

He made a sound from somewhere between his throat and chest that acknowledged my reply. He looked at me with his eyes that somehow seemed to be growing larger for another second or two. Then he shifted in his seat and looked at the rag in my hands.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“Oh no. I mean really I am just doing this to stay awake. No one really comes here this late, and I can’t actually get this place clean.”

“Oh, well, um, let me know if you ever need anything.” There was more heavy silence. He opened his mouth again as if to say something, but he closed it and his cheeks blushed. After the awkwardness in the room became unbearable he pushed himself up from his knees and said goodnight.

It was 1:00 a.m. when I finally locked the front door. My eyes had become so heavy I was afraid I would fall asleep standing up. I made my way to the bathroom. The shower was filthy with grime. I made a mental note to scrub it tomorrow before any of the guests woke up. We gained a new family last night with two small boys. Pam gave them a, “You poor thing, your home went up in smoke,” discount. Only $10.00 a bed, not bad.

I let the water roll down my skin. The steam felt good after a long, cold day. I took a washcloth and began to strip the dirt of the day away before bed. I washed my face, and that’s when I noticed the drain. In each water droplet slipping down the drain I saw...well, I saw a little me. Laughing and enjoying the water slide.

That’s not right. There’s only one of me. Suddenly, I found myself in a water droplet, rolling down my own leg and off my pinky toe. I looked up to see my giant face twisted in confusion. The drain neared, and I laughed and smiled. Down I slid into the darkness, leaving myself behind.

With a splash I found myself in a gray lighted area and clothed in a gray suit. My nails were painted white instead of plain and cracked from doing dishes. The water was absorbed into the ground, and I was dry. A cement walled maze with no sunlight to tell me what direction I was facing loomed all around me.

Follow the right wall. I thought this to myself for hours running my fingers along the gray concrete walls. Finally, I saw something other than gray. A multitude of colors of skin and clothes. I ran for it, beyond glad to be out of the gray monotony. As I exited the maze, I heard the screams of a crowd of people below me. I turned around and the maze was gone, replaced by a solid cement wall with no seams to indicate where I had just exited from.

The crowd went silent. I felt my throat go dry. They were waiting for me to speak, but I didn’t know what to say. I felt dizzy, and the sensation was heightened as I inched closer to the edge of the tall stage.

I felt something hard in my hand. I look down at an electronic pen. The type used on smart boards. I lifted it and holding a button underneath I began illustrating the long term negative financial aspects of many of the current government policies. The crowd was silent, engaged, their eyes followed my every graphic. My math was flawless, and dare I say it, fun. I went to create a new model and stepped forward to reach for a clean patch of air. I caught sight of a man in the front row of the crowd. His gaze was so intense and piercing I felt like he could read my mind. My foot slipped and off the stage I fell. The rest of the crowd was gone, but this one man reached his arms out to catch me.

I woke up with the acrid taste of metal in my mouth. My heart was racing from my dream. I was still sitting behind the counter. The clock on the computer screen read 4:15 AM. I was wiping at a trickle of drool from my mouth when I heard the door pushed open. We always lock the first deadbolt on the door at 1:00. Shit.

Two large men in black hoodies came in. One slid over to me before I could even speak. A cold blade was pressed to my neck, and I was scared to even swallow.

“Open the drawer,” the man holding the knife to my neck said in a voice so low it made my stomach drop. I could feel his breath on my ear as I reached forward ever so slowly and opened the small old cash register. I knew of course that it was empty.

The second man leaned over the counter and looked into the empty cash slots. “Where. Is. The. Money?” He made each word sound like a threat more horrible than the last. I said nothing. The man behind me slammed the cash drawer shut. I winced at the noise.

“Tell us where the old bitch keeps her cash, or else we might just have to take something else.” He slid the knife down my neck, across my collar bone, and towards my breasts. I felt my rib cage rattle with the pounding of my heart.

There wasn’t much, but Pam kept the cash in her bedroom under her mattress upstairs. The thought of these men bursting into Pam’s room made me sick. They might hurt me, but I was sure they would murder the elderly woman. I refused to tell him where the money was; I shut my eyes as he played with the knife on my skin.

“Last chance,” he growled in a voice lower than before.

I opened my eyes, determined not to tell them, but my eyes betrayed me. I looked at the stairs.

“Ah, the old bitch sleeps with it,” the second man said following my eyes.

“No! Please!” I shouted before a rag was shoved in my mouth. I felt a cord being wrapped around my wrists.

“You know,” the man in front of me said, “maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“Why you gettin’ cold feet,” the man behind me said, finishing off the knot at my wrists.

Then there were footsteps. Fast footsteps, and bam, the man in front of me was knocked to the floor. I leaned over the counter to see Sam pummeling the face of the intruder. I was pushed to the side as the other man jumped the counter to land on Sam.

I worked my tongue around and was able to push the cloth out of my mouth.

“Stop!” I said. And to my surprise they did. I spoke quickly, “Look, there’s no money here. Pam took what little there was to the bank this morning.”

“Man, get the fuck off me,” said the first man Sam had jumped on. He pushed himself up off the floor, blood dripping from an eyebrow. “I didn’t even want to do this. Let’s go.”

The second man gave Sam one final shove as he moved past him. The two ran out into the darkness, leaving the door open so that the temperature in the room dropped. Sam ran over to the door to slam it shut and clicked the three locks.

“He dropped his knife on the floor back here,” I said. Sam picked it up and sawed through the cord to free my hands. It fell to the floor and I rubbed my wrists.

“I’m glad you’re a light sleeper,” I said.

Then out of nowhere Sam pulled me into his chest and held me close. “Oh,” I managed to say.

He let go, “Sorry, I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“No, it’s okay. I just haven’t had a hug in a really long time.” And I leaned back into his chest again. He hugged me tightly, and it felt warm and safe. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to feel safe at this moment.

“Sam,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he said, still holding me.

“Don’t tell Pam I forgot to lock the door.”

I followed him to his room not wanting to be alone. I sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled my knees up to my chest.

“I’ll go get you some water,” Sam said and as he left the room I saw the square patch of skin, scar tissue gray, surrounded by his short, dark curls.

My head felt itchy in the same spot. I wish I was brave enough to cut the numbers out. Sam came back in, and shut the door behind him. He handed me the water and sat down next to me. The bed creaked under the added weight.

I sipped the water slowly. I didn’t want to ask, but my curiosity got the better of me.

“When did you slice your numbers out?” And I knew he understood my question because his left hand lifted to the back of his head.

“When I was 14. And before you ask, yeah, my mom is my real mom. She made the IQ cut.”

“And your dad?” I asked.

Sam let out a sigh, “It was an X. He split before I was born...What ‘bout you? Are your parents your parents?”

I took another sip of water before answering, “No. They were assigned by the state. They thought they couldn’t have kids and signed up for the program.”

“I’m sorry. It must really suck not knowing who either of your real parents are,” Sam said. He reached his hand to cover mine, but then took it back just as quickly. But the embrace earlier made me crave the human touch I hadn’t had in so long. I reached out and laced my fingers between his. Then it all poured out of me. I told him everything. How I left home after my parents had a “real” child. How I couldn’t find work. How I felt like a second hand jacket that no one wanted. Then more quietly, I told him that the law was awful. A test to keep a child was inhumane.

I nervously waited for his response. The Better Homes Better Futures law had been first proposed by Persim when she was a senator. She had campaigned for it years ago, and she still beamed pride at the law even today. The scar on his skull gave me some hope, but I didn’t know for sure if Sam would report me, but I didn’t care anymore.

“I agree with you,” he said. A wave of relief washed over me. I felt vindicated, and soon after I felt exhausted. Sam moved to the only chair in the room, and I fell asleep above his blankets.