“How do you know everyone? How does everyone know you? I looked it up, there are close to forty-four-thousand people in Salem, Massachusetts. How on earth do you know everyone? How do they know you? Know me?” I contemplate on how much to tell her. According to the Elders, I shouldn’t tell her anything. Women were never meant to be involved, and if they ever became so, they didn’t live long after. That thought isn’t nearly as terrifying as it should be, but rather enticing. No future bride, means no future wedding. Fuck it. “I don’t know everyone, just those that matter. Those that are
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