Page 73 of Retrograde

But Tammy doesn’t even sound scared.

“Go on,” she says, her voice full of disgust and hatred. “Hit me then! Break Volker’s new toy right after you sold it to him. See what happens.”

Dad freezes, blood draining out of his face so fast he goes from red to sheet-white in only a few seconds.

“That’s right, genius!” Tammy’s provoking him—she shouldn’t be provoking him. “It’s up to me now whether all of you or only some of you go to the Oceanics. All I need to do is spread my legs right, and I can easily have you sent to a working camp instead. How does a radioactive debris cleanup crew sound? Daddy?”

“Shut up,” he gasps, lowering his arm, shaking his head. “I had to ... you don’t understand ...”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she mocks him. “It became pretty fucking clear right around the time he said ‘your daddy agreed I should be your new Daddy’ and pushed his thing into my ass.”

“Stop! Don’t talk. Don’t tell me—I can’t hear it!”

When she tries to sit up, he rolls off her, letting her. He kneels next to her like he’s praying. “Please,” he’s muttering, rocking back and forth. “Please, Tamara, please ...”

“You piece of shit!” Tammy shoves him, and he nearly topples over, but doesn’t retaliate. “So help me fucking god.” She gets up to her feet—she’s really tiny, almost shorter than I am—but right now she looks tall, towering over Dad’s crouching form. “You will never so much as look at them the wrong way. You will never hit them ever again.”

“No ... no ... no.” Now Dad is crying too, snot pouring out of his nose. “I won’t, I swear I won’t.”

But Tammy no longer pays him any attention. She turns to me, and her features soften so fast it’s like magic.

“Kat, come here.” She helps me to my feet, and her eyes land on the wet crotch of my trousers.

Shame burns through me, and I try to avoid looking at anyone.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.” With her arm around my shoulders, she leads me to the bathroom, shutting the door behind us with a bang.

“Tammy, what’s going on?” I ask her once it’s just the two of us. “Why aren’t you coming with us?”

I take off my soiled clothes, and she runs the bath for me, adding a generous splash of soap. The water starts foaming.

“That’s complicated, baby,” she only says in reply to my question. “I have to stay. There are things I must do so that you can all go.”

“You have to take more pictures?”

She sighs heavily before replying, “Yeah. Something like that.”

She sits on the rim of the bath, her shoulders slumped.

“Can I stay here with you?” I plead with her in a small voice.

I test the water with my fingers. It’s too hot, and the faucet creaks as I adjust it.

“No, baby.” Tammy shakes her head slowly, sadly.

A different kind of fear than before twists inside my belly. I can tell something is very wrong, but I don’t understand what’s happening.

I take a closer look at her, and that’s when I notice the stain for the first time.

“Did you get your monthlies?” I ask her. “You’ve got blood on your ...”

“What?” Her eyes snap up, and she follows my gaze to between her legs.

She gasps. And then—very suddenly—she breaks down.

She crashes to her knees, bending forward. She’s sobbing so hard it sounds like she’s choking.

I don’t know what to do. I put my hand on her shaking shoulder, and we stay like that until the overflowing bath interrupts us. And the whole time, I just keep wishing things could be the way they used to be.