Being a Martha in the Lawrence household was a quiet life—especially if you were a Mayday spy. You knew how to behave, how to be discreet, never raising suspicion, not even from a man as observant as Joseph Lawrence. But unlike him, his wife seemed to notice almost immediately that something was off about you.

Eleanor seemed to be testing you, and you knew it. Every now and then, she'd invite you to go down to the basement with her, as if she wanted you to see all those files down there. Other times, she'd ask you to help with the plants she was desperately trying to care for on her better days.

Last night had been difficult—Eleanor screaming and crying for most of it, while Joseph tried to calm her down. But by late afternoon the next day, there she was, sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room, reading a book. Reading a book. That was forbidden in Gilead; women weren’t allowed to read or they’d risk losing a finger. And she knew that you knew. Another test, then.