A way Out

**Shaira's POV**

"It's not bad, but it's not enough," the doctor said after swallowing the piece of meat. "I'll extend your service time."

Filled with rage, I grabbed the knife from the kitchen table, the one I had used to cut the meat, and I glared at the doctor, my eyes blazing with a fury on the verge of being unleashed. He paled instantly.

"I won’t work for you longer than we initially agreed," I warned, holding the knife in my hand, its blade subtly pointed at the heart of the man who sought to exploit the situation. "The meal was good. If you want something better, you’ll let me use the cooking device."

Shocked by my threatening stance, likely convinced that I was just a timid, miserable little mouse who would let him do whatever he pleased, the doctor backed down. Maybe he realized he had crossed a line I wasn’t willing to tolerate.

"I was only testing you, doll," he said with a weak smile, unconvincing. "The food is acceptable. It has the delightful taste of your hands, I enjoyed it. But you'll keep cooking the traditional way. I like knowing you've touched what I eat."

I placed the knife back on the table. My threat had worked, and I knew I couldn’t take it to the extreme. Killing or even wounding someone like him would only bring more trouble to Assu and me—trouble that would force us to flee. And as Assu warned, we’d only be carrying our problems to whichever village was willing to take us in.

The doctor finished his lunch and returned to his study. I continued my chores until the end of the day, and by the time the sun had set, I left the house. I was tired but not exhausted, despite the demanding task of cleaning the two floors of that enormous house. For some reason, likely related to the life I’d led before losing my memory, I was accustomed to much more strenuous work. I must have been trained as a warrior, which excited me, except for the fact that I was probably in service to the very people invading the lands of the opranchi, disrupting their traditional way of life, and enabling men like that doctor to assert their "rights."

I arrived at Assu’s home just as the stars began to shimmer brightly. I found him in much better shape, his wound fully healed thanks to the healer’s care. He was sleeping deeply, the result of the now-empty wineskin lying next to the bed. He had been drinking. I decided to leave him in his drunken slumber and step outside.

“How are you, girl?” asked the woman who had recommended the doctor. She was the one responsible for saving Assu’s life, though she didn’t know she had also pushed me into a miserable situation. “I heard about the conditions that doctor imposed on you. I’m so sorry, that wasn’t my intention...”

I silenced the kind woman’s worries with a gesture of understanding.

“You don’t need to feel bad. I owe you my husband’s life. Without that blood transfusion, I’d be burying him right now.”

“Burying?” the woman exclaimed, horrified.

I feared I had mentioned something outside of opranchi customs, something that might have exposed a clue about my true origin.

“Oh, I see, of course,” the woman said before I could come up with an excuse. “You’re an eteri, aren’t you? Right, that’s why you talk about burying the dead. But we burn our dead so their souls can transcend. We believe that burying them traps their soul in the earth, tormenting the living.”

I didn’t have time to consider the consequences of the woman’s conclusion. In Zuwua, I was the biological daughter of eteri colonists raised by opranchi parents, but with the woman’s deduction, my false story was now exposed.

“Did you meet your husband in the fortress? Because that’s where you’re from, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, I realized I had made a huge mistake by wandering around the village without Assu. He would have shielded me from these suspicions that now put me in jeopardy.

“I should head back,” I said quickly. “Assu might need me.”

“Of course, girl, go back to your husband. And I’m sorry again for what that doctor has put you through, but maybe you should tell him who you really are so he’ll leave you alone and accept payment in credits.”

I thanked the woman, the one who saved Assu’s life, and made my way back to the hut, reflecting on her final words. Did she know who I really was? Why had she associated me with the fortress and not the colonists? Things were getting far too complicated. Perhaps it was time to confront who I really was and head to the eteri fortress. That’s where the answers I needed would be, along with solutions to the problems my presence was causing.

When I returned to the hut, Assu was still sleeping. He was a good man—he had risked his life for me twice, putting himself in grave danger—but excessive drinking was ruining him.

I picked up the wineskin he had been drinking from, intending to put it away, when I saw the insignia and the letters printed on its surface. Another flash burst in my mind. In the image, I held one of those wineskins, bringing it to my lips for a drink of water. There were more people around me, all dressed in military uniforms, and among them, a man was watching me closely. I knew him as “captain.” I handed the wineskin to him—it was his, after all, he had passed it to me. Just as he was about to say something, the image faded.

I stared at the insignia again, hoping for some answers, but nothing came. I read the letters printed there, recognizing them easily.

“Federation Interstellar Army.”

Why did Assu have a wineskin from the eteri army?

Had he acquired it through one of his smuggling deals?

I tried to recapture the memory from the last flash by focusing on the wineskin, but it was no use. The memory didn’t return.

What had that man, the captain, been about to tell me?

I sighed, resigned to getting nothing more from my memory. I turned my eyes back to Assu, now contemplating the idea of heading to the fortress the next day.

I didn’t belong here. My future wasn’t among the opranchi. It was becoming clear that I had come from the eteri fortress, and staying here with a story that was rapidly falling apart would only endanger my life and the lives of those risking themselves to protect me.

I had to go back.