Eve longed to leave the house. Aside from religious functions, she’d never gone further than her front yard. She was too young for a job, and probably wouldn’t have been allowed to work anyway, but the thought of turning eighteen and moving out was one of the only thoughts that brought her comfort. This was still years away. Time always passed much too slowly. Home didn’t feel like home. It never had, really. Home should be welcoming and friendly, not hostile and intimidating. Eve was intimidated by many things, and many would have seemed foolish to anybody else. She feared freedom and isolation, and leaving the house on her own. Nobody cared what Eve feared.

Eve shared a room with her twin sister, Seraphim, with whom she was always confused. If you really got to know someone, it should have been easy to recognize them. The girls looked similar, of course, but even identical twins have things that make them different. Eve was slightly shorter than her twin, and had a small purple birthmark between her eyebrows. When she was younger, her mother insisted on dressing her and Seraphim in matching clothing, and doing their hair the same way. Both girls outgrew this relatively quickly. From the time she was born, Eve had never had a sense of individuality. She wanted to experiment with style and fashion. Her father always said immodesty was sinful, and no one wanted to be a sinner

“Do we have any cocoa? I want to bake cupcakes.”

Soon, Adam would turn fourteen years old. He didn’t care much for birthdays. Even on birthdays, Orion forbade his children from leaving the house. Eve understood why things were the way they were. The outside was a dangerous place filled with cruel people, and sometimes, the only way to protect yourself was to never venture into the outside world at all. When Eve’s older siblings moved out, she never saw them again.

Eve’s thoughts were often unconnected from one another. She was the peacekeeper of the family: comforting her siblings in times of distress, breaking up arguments between others. Seraphim made fun of her for this. Seraphim thought Eve was boring and timid.

Saphira sat on a stump near the fence, watching the younger kids play. “For what?”

Saphira’s priorities were different from hers. Eve wasn’t particularly close with her siblings, but she cared deeply for all of them, and wished them to know this. “For Adam’s birthday. It’s coming up soon.”

You know that makes no sense, right?

Adam was outspoken and opinionated. It got him in trouble a lot, but Eve admired this about him. When Eve’s father went on tangents about why leaving the farm was too dangerous, Adam always shot back almost immediately.

We’re not allowed to leave the house because it’s too dangerous, but you want us to leave as soon as we turn eighteen. Do you really think it’s responsible parenting to just set your kids loose without teaching them absolutely anything about how to survive?

Adam was two years older than his twin sisters. He claimed not to fear his father, but cowered when the man came near. Orion did not put up with disrespect or arguments. He punished his children by spanking or threatening them, which seemed harsh to some, but Eve knew that sometimes, the only way to teach a child manners was to make them feel intimidated. If she was too nervous about the consequences of her disobedience, Eve would do anything she was told.

“I don’t like winter,” said Emily, sitting on a wooden chair in Eve’s backyard. It was locked and fenced, which most people found strange, but Eve’s parents claimed it kept the cows from running off. “I only like Christmas, but I hate the snow.” Emily was the red-haired daughter of the neighbours: the youngest of three, a seven year old girl who had no idea what adult responsibilities were like. Eve should have been the same way.

Sometimes, Eve wondered what would happen to her if her parents suddenly died. They had no will, and Eve had no relatives outside of her immediate family. Like her siblings, Eve’s relationship with Orion was complicated. She loved her father just as much as she hated him, daydreaming about his sudden death in the same breath she promised to obey him. Eve was foolish and childish, and needed the guidance of her father to learn to become a proper adult. If he died suddenly, she’d feel relief and sadness at the same time, and nobody would understand this.

Emily’s oldest brother was named Sebastian. He was seventeen years old and more of a brother to Eve than any of her own. The family attended church functions with the Zoans - it would be forbidden to spend time with them otherwise. Lillian seemed to worry that exposing the children to outsiders would taint their minds, somehow. Maybe this was true. According to Emily, many strangers were untrustworthy and dangerous, and many wanted to harm children. Still, Eve wondered sometimes what the world was like. When she turned eighteen, she’d be able to find out.

Once a week, the children were permitted to play in the backyard. Once a month, the neighbours were invited to join. Canaan and Noah made a snowman, crunching through the snow noisily, keeping to themselves. Sebastian didn’t care much for Eve’s parents, but he was polite and helpful, and Orion thought fondly of him. Some people were so good at making adults like them, even if the whole thing was an act.

Canaan poked her in the back, a hard jab to the spine. He took advantage of his allotted playtime, and enjoyed the snow. “Sister? Will you help me make a snowman?”

Years from now, when Eve was finally old enough to move out, she’d miss Canaan. He was only four years old, but he was a victim of trauma like everyone else. He was young enough still to grow up mostly unaffected, if he managed to escape. Eve felt protective of her youngest brother. She longed for Canaan to be a child: unhindered by trauma or secrets, growing up confident and happy. Zoan children never grew up this way.

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It wasn’t fair. A child was so naive, so pure. A child deserved nothing but the best. Childhood was short and fleeting, and never as it seemed. Eve was cold, not used to the outside weather. “I’m not sure, Canaan. I don’t really like the snow.”

Lillian was nearly twenty years older than Samantha. When she became too old to have any more children, Orion sought out a younger lover. When Samantha became too old, he sought out a younger one.

“Children,” said Lillian, appearing in the doorway of the home, “it’s time to come inside. The kitchen needs to be prepared for dinner.”

Eve’s brothers were always treated better than the rest. Boys were dealt a better hand in life just for being boys, and there was nothing that could be done about it. While her brothers worked with the farm equipment, Eve and her sisters took turns helping the women prepare meals and clean dishes. Once, she was badly scolded after asking her father to help with plowing the fields, and became too afraid to ever ask anything again.

“Here,” said Lillian, thrusting a pile of plates at Eve. It was a heavy pile, and she nearly dropped it. “Get the table ready while Hannah finishes preparing dinner.” No one appreciated Eve. She did what she was told without complaining, and nobody ever thanked her. You don’t need recognition just for doing your job, Lillian would say, whenever she brought it up. This may have been true, but it still would have been nice.

Saphira had a crush on Sebastian. She refused to admit it, but blushed furiously when he spoke to her, and became overly interested in her hands when his name was said. Eve once had a crush on a boy at her church. She knew the humiliation that came with attention.

Eve’s father conversed cheerfully with Sebastian. Eve suspected Orion considered Sebastian more of a son than his actual sons, and he wasn’t shy about hiding it. There was something about Sebastian that Eve didn’t trust. He was friendly in a fake way, but most of her siblings didn’t understand what Eve meant when she pointed this out. I don’t trust him, she’d said to Seraphim, but I don’t know why. There’s just something about him that makes me uncomfortable.

Part of being a girl was never being taken seriously. Nobody took her seriously, not even her twin sister. There came a point when she stopped voicing her opinions at all.

You know what they say, said Hannah, sarcastically, kids should be seen and not heard.

Emily’s parents were younger than Eve’s. Her mother taught Sunday School, and her father was a deacon. Some of Eve’s older brothers had been deacons too, and most of them had hated it.

Each Monday after dinner, Eve participated in family night: an evening she dedicated to spending time with her family at home. She always looked forward to this, as it was the only time her parents acted like proper parents. Children were meant to learn from their parents how to become good, accomplished citizens. Children were meant to be paid attention to: loved and cared for, made to feel like a valued part of a family. Eve rarely felt valued. Perhaps if there had been less children vying for Orion’s attention, there would be more time for Eve. When the kitchen had been tidied and the dishes put away, she sat between Enos and Seraphim on the living room floor, eager to take part in that evening’s activities. Usually, family evenings were cut short by children fighting. Eve was always the first one to try and break up arguments.

“Is it okay if I sit here, Saphira?”

Some weeks, the neighbours stayed for family night. Though they weren’t relatives, Orion said he considered them part of the family, and so they were always welcome. Some of his children liked this idea more than others.

A shy girl, Emily sat between her parents. Out of all the children, she seemed to get along best with Esther. Maybe this was because the girls were the same age. Sebastian was humorous and friendly, and well-liked within the church. He smiled brightly at Saphira, who turned scarlet before staring at the floor. She was no good at pretending. Everyone knew about Saphira’s crush, and this embarrassed her. She mumbled something to the floor, and Sebastian got comfortable beside her.

“Why don’t you just tell him the truth?”

Like Eve, Saphira preferred to keep to herself. She was less obedient than Eve, and less bothered by arguments and disagreements. After a day in which Sebastian had taken Emily and the children for rides in Orion’s wood wagon, Eve made herself comfortable in her sister’s bedroom. They spent little time together, as Saphira was four years older, and thought Eve to be rather babyish.

“Who?”

Saphira drove Eve crazy. She always played dumb, even though everyone knew the truth. Sometimes, feelings were embarrassing and inconvenient. Sometimes Eve tried to ignore them, and this only ever made them stronger.

She sighed. “Sebastian. Just tell him you like him. He probably already knows, anyway.” In Eve’s family, it was impossible to have a secret. Some of the children kept secrets better than others, but the farm was so noisy and crowded that nothing ever stayed a secret long. Eve never cared about this. She wasn’t the type of girl to rebel.

At her suggestion, Saphira scowled. “Gross. That’d be like liking one of my brothers.” Her nose crinkled, trying far too hard to sound convincing. “You’re just a kid, anyway. You don’t understand adult relationships.” Saphira was nearly old enough to date. Some of Eve’s older siblings had been in relationships before they were sixteen, and Eve didn’t know how they pulled it off without getting caught.

There was nothing Eve hated more than being talked down to. Everyone assumed kids to be idiotic, and spoke to them as such. “Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I’m stupid, you know.” The most annoying thing about older siblings was that most thought they were too important for you. Even Seraphim, who had been born nearly thirty minutes earlier than her twin, seemed to have some sort of weird superiority complex.

Canaan and Noah were fighting. The younger kids fought a lot. Discipline was never kind or gentle. Eve had been slapped for questioning her parents’ authority or refusing to do what she was told. She had no idea how to properly raise children. Kids were meant to listen to their parents, and sometimes the only way to get them to do this was to scare them.