“How do you even get inside?”
“Trade secret,” I say with a chuckle.
“Don’t you think they’re going to notice their things going missing?”
“I’m very careful.”
We fall into a comfortable silence, basking in the shared warmth of each other’s bodies and company. After a few minutes, her breathing becomes deep and regular. A short time later, I follow her into a dreamless slumber.
I wake at dusk and slip out of Ava’s arms and bed. With a shiver, I make my way outside the tent and walk quickly to the river to bathe. The water is frigid, so I
wash quickly before racing back to the tent.
When I return, Ava is up and greets me with a towel and a warm cup of herbal tea.
“Where did you get this?” I ask, holding up the cup.
“There was a tea merchant here from the east about a month ago,” she says. “It cost a bit, so I only bring it out on special occasions.”
“I’m honored!” I sip the tea, not caring for the taste but appreciating the warmth. I take another sip before pulling my clothes back on.
“I could have warmed up some water for you to wash,” Ava says. “You didn’t have to freeze in the river.”
“You are the one who said I was filthy,” I say. “I didn’t want to wait, and I’m used to the cold. Besides, I wasn’t sure how much hospitality I get for one apple.”
“Quite a lot, really. How long are you staying?”
“A day or two.” Ava raises an eyebrow at me, clearly unimpressed with my noncommittal reply. “Lots of lost things out there waiting to be found.”
“Lost.” She snorts and shakes her head. “You could stick around a little longer. I mean, that apple was worth quite a bit. I can even sell the seeds, so I’m pretty sure I still owe you.”
Something in her voice makes me examine her body language more closely. She’s turned herself away to keep me from looking directly into her face, but I can see the tension in her back and shoulders through her sheer robe.
“What’s going on?” I ask her sternly. “If you say nothing, I’m going to get pissed.”
Ava huffs a long breath out of her nose before turning to face me.
“I just have some problems with clients on occasion,” she says. “Nothing I can’t handle, usually…”
“Usually? So, there’s an exception. Who is he?”
“He’s…he’s not from around here.”
“Who is he?” I ask forcefully, reaching out and grabbing her arm to make her face me.
“He comes from the other side of the river,” she says. “He’s come here the last couple of Fridays—you know, the day the plastic workers are paid.”
“And?”
“And tomorrow is Friday.”
“What has he done to you?” I drop my hand from her arm and ball it into a fist, trying to keep my growing anger out of my voice.
“He’s gotten a little rough,” she says quietly. “I’m usually okay with that, but some of the things he says…he just sets me on edge. I don’t like him.”
“Then don’t let him in.”
“It’s not that easy,” Ava says. “If I refuse clients from the Plant, word gets around. If they don’t visit me, I only get paid in barter. I have to pay for the rent on this place with actual coin. I need money, too.”