I pretended to sleep when the door opened and the woman came into the room. I could tell because she was humming to herself as she moved around the kid’s cot. The song reminded me of something. I opened one eye just enough to see through my eyelashes. Her back was to me and she was bent over the kid. She kissed him on the forehead.
“If you stab me with that piece of glass it’s going to cut your hand,” she said. She didn’t even turn to look at me.
“What do I care?” I said. I opened my eyes but didn’t make a move. “I cut my hands all the time. How often do you cut your neck open?”
“I’m a doctor,” she said. “I can treat a cut, I could probably even stitch my own neck.” She turned and looked at me. “But if I put you outside my fence with a deep cut on your hand and no antiseptic, do you know how long it will be before the infection kills you?”
The door flung open and one of the things from the woods, one of the man-shaped heaps of moss and leaves and sticks, came shambling in. It filled the room with its muddy smell. I screamed. The woman laughed. The thing let out a muffled laugh, too. And then it pulled off the mask of leaves covering its head revealing a man’s face underneath. He held his hands up in playful claws and made a mock-monster face.
“Sorry,” he said. “Camouflage.”
“You know all about camouflage, don’t you, dear?” The woman said. “Looking helpless and hiding your strength?” She leaned in close to speak to me eye to eye. “But the time comes when we must reveal ourselves.” She held out her hand.
I place the shard across her palm, careful not to cut either of us.
