I left with the vial in one hand, the crystal in the other. I looked about the room for a place to hide the vial. I eventually settled on bunching up a pair of underwear around the vial and shoving it into the gap between my bed and the wall. I shifted the mattress so that the gap was no longer visible from above. I'd have to remember when making the bed to cover the gap from the sides too. It wouldn't hide the vial in a thorough search, but it would have to be enough.

I kept the quartz crystal under my pillow, my hand wrapped around it as I lay in bed. I doubted anyone would be overly suspicious of it if found. At worst, it would be thrown out and my hands would be whipped. It was worth risking that to have something Gilead hadn't assigned me, something I could call my own.

I hoped James was smart enough to let the issue rest. I should've been exhausted as I lay in my bed running over the events of the night in my head, but my body thrummed with too much tension. I'd acted confident in front of James, but I feared he would reveal Everett's and my late night rendezvous. He was an Eye, after all, he might be able to get away with breaking a rule every now and then if it meant gathering more information. Either way, there was little I could do to protect myself if he decided to go back on our agreement.

Three weeks passed, the only sign of Commander Cole came in the form of a letter to Mrs. Cole. The Guardian who delivered it whispered something in her ear, but though I strained to hear his words as I scrubbed the crown molding nearby, I was unable to make out anything. Mrs. Cole took the letter upstairs to read. Later, I leapt at the opportunity to bring her rug downstairs to beat clean. There was a fresh pile of ash in her bedside ashtray.

The trees began to bud leaves, Mrs. Cole's lily of the valley, snowdrops, and bluebells were in full bloom, and the weather had begun to ease its icy grip when the Commander finally returned, looking thinner and at least ten years older with the worry lines on his brow. The whole household came out to greet him. Mrs. Cole rushed into his arms and he kissed her affectionately. A few weeks' absence apparently was enough to make them forget their hostilities.

"Ah, Ofmartin! Blessed be my little fruit."

I kept my gaze lowered as he approached me so that my hood would conceal any disappointment my face couldn't. I had enjoyed those weeks where I didn't have to seduce anyone, where my only responsibilities were the daily shopping and watching my belly grow. Now I would have to earn keep to stay in the Commander's and Mayday's good graces.

The Commander knelt in front of me. He placed his hands on either side of my stomach, gave it a fond rub, and kissed it.

Under his breath he said, "I missed you a great deal, Ofmartin."

"See you tonight?" I asked. He smiled in answer.

Dinner was an elaborate affair to celebrate the Commander's arrival. Nightly prayers were said by the Commander with the whole household gathered. The household went to bed, and then my work began.

The Commander opened the door as soon as I'd reached it. He must have been listening for my steps. Good, I thought. He'd be easier to manipulate if he was desperate.

"Blessed evening, Commander," I said.

He waved me in and pressed a kiss against my lips. I kissed him back with vigor. I let things escalate until he began to unzip his pants. I gulped and placed a hand on his chest.

"Commander Cole? Forgive me, for being so bold, but I have a request."

He stopped undressing to look at me quizzically. "What sort of request?"

I shuffled my feet, feeling a blush coming on. "Well, while you were away, I thought about you a lot. Seeing you in your role as a Commander, giving orders and working with the other Commanders, imagining all that you did while you were away in D.C… I couldn't help but be turned on."

I looked away. I couldn't face how I was humiliating myself.

"That's very sweet dear, but that's more of a statement than a request," he said as I worked up the willpower to continue.

"I was wondering if we could take this to your office? Your office reminds me of how powerful you are and how lucky I am to be your Handmaid, I think I'd perform better that way. We could do it on the desk."

I held my breath as he considered it. There was a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. I pressed my lips against his neck and let my arms slip down his back. His face softened and his lips twisted into an indulgent smile.

"Very well then, if you think it will motivate you. But I expect quite the performance."

I smiled back. "Oh I'm sure it will, Commander."

I put on a show for the Commander, going above and beyond the effort I'd put into it before. I needed him to let us keep coming here instead of his bedroom. My enthusiasm seemed to wear him down faster than usual. Before long, we were both panting with exhaustion on the leather couch. His head nodded as he fought to stay awake.

"Can I get you a drink, Commander Cole?" I asked, already making my way to his minibar behind the couch.

He shook himself awake. "What's that? Oh, yes three fingers bourbon, neat. It should be the round bottle on the left."

He didn't bother to turn around. I dropped down and pulled the sedative vial from my heap of clothes. At least the baggy underwear was finally serving a purpose. I put a few drops in his drink then shoved the vial back into the pile. I traced patterns on the Commander's chest as he drank. Everett had been right. A couple of minutes later, and the Commander was snoring.

I didn't waste time. I found a pencil and sheets of paper, then set to searching through his briefcase. I pulled out a report that looked well worn and I skimmed the paragraphs for anything that might be useful. I gasped as I saw what was written. A Handmaid had bombed a new Rachel and Leah Center. Twenty-six Commanders dead, thirty-one Handmaids, a similar number injured. Their names and assignments were listed. One name stood out from all the others: Ruth Cunningham, assigned to Commander Andrew Pryce.

That was my sister's name.

I read the rest of the report. Towards the end, names of replacement Commanders and their duties were listed. Another page detailed the redistribution of Handmaids. I wrote them down. Another file on troop movements, another a list of supplies. I scribbled everything I could down furiously. My handwriting was much worse than I remembered it being. My hand was cramping from years of disuse. Don't think, just write, don't think, don't think.

The Commander shifted and groaned. I was out of time. I packed away his briefcase as quietly as I could. I donned my nightgown, shoving the sedative, pencil, and folded papers into my bosom and the waistband of my bloomers. By the time the Commander had woken, I was safely in my room.

In the dark, I could still see the words hovering over the page: Ruth Cunningham, assigned to Commander Andrew Pryce. My gut twisted. It had to be a coincidence, a Handmaid just happened to have the same name as her. Ruth was married, her husband performed the Ceremony, I'd seen it with my own eyes. She was an obedient wife, she couldn't have been made a Handmaid. Besides, this was in New York. They wouldn't have taken her so far away to be a Handmaid, right? It had to be another Ruth.

I knew I was lying.