The wonder of youth is surly found in ignorance and this was the gift I wished for my daughter. Ignorance, for as long as I could offer it.

Though I was resentful of our lost time together, part of me was glad Mary spent the majority of her days with other children. My own childhood had been one of isolation in the kitchens with Mama and Lexia, but Mary was able to run and play with girls her own age. When she did come to the kitchen, I tried to ensure that her time there too was positive.

Mary's inquisitive nature made her an eager student, just as I had been. I tried to employ only positive reinforcement whenever possible, hoping to improve her childhood as Mama and Lexia had for me once upon a time. But I was determined to shelter my girl even more, offering my child warmth and compassion where my mother had given me only removed affection. I wanted Mary to have as much happiness as a slave could possibly obtain.

Ensuring the most laborsome and difficult of my chores were completed early, I was able to offer Mary my full attention for the limited time I was granted with her. Together we worked on basic skills, honing her chopping, mixing, and kneading until the prep work she produced began to mimic my own. Nothing gave me greater pleasure than the pride that appeared on her face with every note of well-earned praise.

With her time in the kitchen lessened, Madam soon began to look on Mary more favorably. The child was happy and, given her chance to socialize with other young, she was quite well behaved and content when the time for work arrived. Mary was eager to please and truly a gifted student. Before long, all in the kitchen looked forward to her visits, brightening the day with the optimism and cheer only a child could manage.

In my new life, I found my thoughts often drifting to my own mother, remembering her hope that I would one day find contentment with my lot. With each passing day I became more confident that I had finally done so. The abuses Everett inflicted, the pain of losing my mother and Lexia, all of those trauma's had lead me to the happiest moments of my life beside the little girl who was my legacy. It was as Mama had always said, our purpose lay in helping others. Though my position under Madam had limited my ability to actively provide aide as I used to with Lexia, I took heart in the joyful child I was raising to take on my tasks. Perhaps my past would not taint her on the estate and Mary would be able to do more than myself or even Mariana had once she fully gained both Madam and Dulane's love.

Unfortunately, nothing could keep reality at bay forever. As Mary grew I knew each day brought her closer to the end of childhood and her true place as one of our Master's stalk. I could only shelter her for so long. She was a mere 5 years old when the world of Dulane's business came crashing into the bubble I'd hoped to create for my precious child.

The day began like any other. Before dawn, I dropped Mary off at the nursery complex. Dreda no longer came to greet us. Mary was old enough to find her way to the other children and everyone in the nursery knew her well enough to watch and keep her safe. Mary was true a descendant of Dulane's pride and joy, Mariana. A human of privilege with not a mark against her.

When I checked her hair and dress that morning she stood perfectly still, smiling happily as I planted a kiss on her forehead and bid her to find her way to the older girls who took care of her.

"I will see you soon my love," I said as I did every day. "Just a few short hours and you will be with me again."

Mary giggled. She found my sendoffs to be silly. She took for granted that I would see her again so soon. I never would, but I was happy she was so confident and comfortable that she might believe our lives were more stable than they were in reality.

When noon came, I gathered my midday portion of food and Mary's as well, setting them out on the table in wait for my daughter to arrive. She and I were always granted our place at the head of the long table where humans ate in the kitchen and were permitted to take our rations first.

I was now serving as head house slave again, my status nearly as high as that I had held under Lexia. Mary was my heir. No one dared question our position and even whispers of discontent with my status as a "greyskin" were lessened now. I knew this was a sign of fear and not respect. I didn't care. My life was now dedicated to Mary above all else. While I was fully willing to help others, I knew I would never again do anything to jeopardize the power I had that kept my child safe.

Mary arrived at her usual time and I went to greet her with a smile and hug as I did every day, but as I looked into her eyes, I could see something was off. The smile on her lips was not as bright as usual.

"Are you alright, Mary?" I asked, my motherly concern instantly overwhelming all else. Mary 's smile increased, hiding the momentary sorrow I was certain I'd perceived. She nodded her head enthusiastically.

Not convinced, I laid the back of my hand against her brow, checking for fever but her skin was cool.

"I'm fine, Mama," she said, pulling away. I forced one more hug before releasing her.

"We have a big day planned," I told her as I ushered her to the table. "Eat your lunch quickly. Today you will learn my famous apple pie recipe. Our Master has requested it especially. We are have even been permitted to make an extra pie to enjoy ourselves!"

Mary's excitement was clear and any hint of trouble in her expression washed away. I let the matter go, hoping I was simply paranoid.

When we'd finished lunch, Mary and I worked side by side for the rest of the afternoon. I marveled at her impressive skill. Already her ability to follow instruction was that of one at least two years older than she, measuring and pouring each ingredient with a steady hand. Soon she would be able to advance to more complex dishes.

I was filled with pride when Mary's pie came out nearly as perfect as my own. She had rolled the dough and fitted the pan without my help and still the crust had risen properly, the filling perfectly balanced. I rewarded her with a large slice of pie before sending her back to the nursery.

But though Mary seemed pleased by my praise, I noticed she only picked at the treat I'd offered. Again my worry was peaked, but as she'd eaten her lunch, I hoped she was merely full. I let her go to her evening work assignment hoping that time with her peers might help restore her cheer. Still, I noticed her hesitate to leave when I prompted her to watch the clock.

As I finished dinner preparations that night I found my mind drifting to concern for my daughter that wouldn't leave me. Something was wrong and I was determined to talk to Mary when I saw her again.

It was late by the time I was able to go to my bed. Dulane was set to have a large gathering at the end of the month and I was tasked with assuring his guest quarters were clean and our stores were enough to account for the additional sibla mouths we would be feeding. I sent word to the nursery that Mary should eat her evening meal with the other young and return to the dorms without me. In my work, I'd nearly forgot about my earlier worries. That is until I returned to the dorms to find my daughter sitting on the steps to our sleeping quarters.

The air was chilled with the early frost of fall and I was immediately concerned that Mary would be out in such conditions. The sun had long set, the sky an inky black, the stars above fully visible and the skin casting a ghostly pallor on my child's normally tanned skin, making her look frighteningly pale, her breath coming forth in faint wisps of white mist.

Hurrying to Mary I gathered her up in my arms.

"What are you out here my little Mary?" I asked with concern. "It's far too late for you to be in the cold like this!" Her hands were ice, her nose reddened with the chill. I wondered how long she had been waiting for me.

"The other's went to bed," she answered. "I didn't want to wake them waiting for you. I'm sorry, Mama."

"Well, I'm home now," I said, trying to temper my tone. I didn't want her to think I was angry. She'd merely been thinking of the others in our dorm and trying to avoid disturbing them. I only wished I had paid more attention to my instincts earlier. Clearly something was bothering the child. "Why don't we go inside where it's warm," I suggested. "We need rest if we are to return to our work tomorrow and make our Masters proud. I smiled and wrapped Mary in a tight embrace, but though she let me pull her close, I could see the expression of unrest on her face.

"Mama, can I ask you about something first?" she asked, her voice entirely serious and devoid of its normal cheerful timbre.

"Of course, my love," I answered. "You know you can always come to me don't you?"

When Mary hesitated in response, I settled beside her on the step and took her hand in my own.

"There is nothing you need hide," I assured her. "I will always listen and protect you. No matter what."

Mary nodded but her gaze remained downcast.

"Some of the girls were taken away," she said. "Master Dulane's men came for them early this morning. They were crying."

I felt my stomach and heart drop.

"Not all children are as lucky as you, Mary," I answered, though I felt sick with the knowledge that she had actually been forced to watch her friends taken. She was still so young. I didn't want her to know such horrible truths. Not yet.

"Jillian, one of the older girl, told me that they put the ones they take in cages," Mary continued. "Is it true?"

I nodded my head though I wished so much to deny it. Hiding the truth would do her no good.

"But they don't stay there long," I volunteered, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her close again. Of course, I omitted what happened to them after the cages but it seemed even that detail was not hidden from my little girl.

"I know," Mary answered with a nod. "Jillian said that they die. That that's what happened to the ones that were taken before."

I began to very much dislike this Jillian. I should have been the one to teach my child these truths. My resentment of Madam suddenly surged for keeping Mary from living in the kitchen as I had through my childhood. Though I trusted Dreda to care for my child's safety, I knew she had other charges to look after. I hated that I could not more fully control my daughter's upbringing. I'd wanted so much to protect her innocence.

"It's ok, Mama" Mary continued, no doubt seeing the pain in my expression. "They are in heaven now, right? That's what Ms. Dreda told us. When we die we get to go to heaven."

A pang of discomfort ran through me at her words. What could I answer? It had always been clear that Dreda was a believer but I didn't know if there was a heaven above. Some salvation for those who were forced to live the life of a slave on earth. I had long ago begun to question that there was any deity looking down on us. After all, if God wouldn't protect us in this life, why should I believe he might protect us in the next? It seemed like gossamer and fairytales told to placate children, to keep us compliant, to allow our Master to lead so many to slaughter... I couldn't bring myself to deceive Mary in my true beliefs.

"They are no longer suffering," I answered. At least that was a truth I believed.

Marry nodded in response to my words, the expression on her young features entirely somber.

"It's still sad," she said. "I wish they didn't have to go."

My heart ached to watch my child process the horrific world into which she'd been born.

"You need not worry, my precious girl," I said, rubbing her arm through her coat. "You will not be taken away. Not for a very long time. We must use this sadness we feel about the others to help them in any way we can. Do you understand?"
Mary's small head nodded and I grabbed her up in a tight embrace, feeling her small arms wrap around me, clinging to me for comfort.

"Let's go get some rest," I said after we'd untangled our arms. "Sleep will help wash away the sorrows of today and allow us to wake to a new dawn tomorrow."

As I helped Mary from her clothes and dressed her for bed, the child was quiet, no doubt still processing the new world she now found herself in. Still, she did not ask to sleep in my bed. It had been over a year since she'd done so and I was glad this day had not caused her to regress. In fact, tucking her beneath the covers the child even offered me a smile.

"Good night, Mama," she said, wrapping her arms around my neck as I bent down to kiss her forehead.

"Good night my sweet girl," I answered. "Remember, Mama loves you and will always keep you safe."

Mary lay her head down, her eyes closing almost immediately but I could not sleep. Hours passed as I lay in my own bed, watching my child slumbering peacefully. Mary was growing and guilt filled me with the knowledge that I could not truly "keep her safe" as I'd promised. I was a human. My life was not my own. I only hoped I could find the strength my own mother had to raise a child who might be able to fend for herself when I inevitably abandoned her.