She'd been counting since she'd realized her days were numbered, as though someone would put a noose around her neck on day seventeen, or thirty-eight. There wasn't much Raven could do except bide her time, hyper aware of every single person she saw or spoke to. She didn't know if it was paranoia making her sick or if it was nausea - first trimester symptoms she hoped wasn't obvious. If no one suspected she was pregnant, then they'd think she was sick, and if she was sick she had to be kept away from others. In the strict community, that never boded well. If she didn't get better - which she couldn't, because her condition wasn't something to be cured - then she'd be dealt with before whatever was wrong with her could spread. If that happened, her only option would be to tell the truth, and that would lead to an execution anyway.
"Hi," Raven greeted stiffly as she sat down at the table, her rations of food just for show. She hadn't eaten in days, her food ending up untouched in a pack she'd been slowly filling for their escape. She didn't know of anyone who had voluntarily tried to leave the Community. They might have been able, if they just asked the man in charge, but there was no way they'd be allowed to leave with anything seen as property of the Community and if they wanted to live at all - give their kid any sort of a chance - they'd need supplies. "It's been a while. How's your assignment?" She shifted a bit further down the bench to make space between them, hoping she looked like anyone else making chitchat with a stranger. Not that there was such a thing of strangers here, in one of the few places that survived despite the death outside their wall. They had good numbers, but they weren't very sizable. Everyone knew everyone's name, which made it more difficult to hide things.