ISOBEL
The sheets felt like they weighed a thousand pounds.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster for the third time that morning. The heat season had passed more than seven hours ago, and my body still ached from the suppressants. The pills left a bitter taste that clung to the back of my throat no matter how much water I drank. Because I could not bring myself to participate in something such as the heat when my mother had just perished.
I had even offered Joseph my blessing for him to go to one of those pleasure houses. I told him to do whatever he wanted. Take an Omega if it would help. I didn't care what he did with his body during heat season because mine was mine alone, and I refused to let some stupid biology dictate my choices.
But he had chosen to take suppressants instead.
Solidarity, he called it.
I called it pointless.
