The morning of induction, Annisa wakes at four in the morning and does her exercises and shaves her head and weighs in and goes to the rooftop, where her father sits with her for eight hours, drilling her on English. She doesn't need drills on English anymore. She hasn't needed them since she was twelve. But she doesn't want to propose he drill her on something she doesn't have down yet, because then she'll get questions wrong and have to watch the look of raw panic in his eyes.
This is probably why she is going to die. There is a girl very much like her who tells her father to drill her on Malayu Asli and that girl lives, and Annisa is probably going to die. She knows that and she still doesn't correct him, and he doesn't correct himself, either, even though she's getting all the English right.
At 11:30am they go to the sauna. They go to the sauna because the weight limit is seventy kilograms, including you, and you don't want much of it to be water. It'd be stupid to starve your children in anticipation - they need to be in good physical condition, tough and strong and muscular - but they don't need the water weight. They're in the sauna starting at 11:30 because they tried this four months ago, and again two months ago, and Annisa can do ninety minutes followed by being spun aggressively in a barrel at the top speed her father can muster for five minutes (to simulate induction, which is nauseating) and then fight off a couple of minor mals while she runs 400meters. Annisa cannot do a hundred minutes; she tripped and fell and split her lip and her father had to burn the mals off and that probably wouldn't kill her, even in the Scholomance, but it might, and it'd be a terrible impression for the first day.
Annisa can do ninety minutes, so she's in the sauna at 11:30am, and then out of the sauna at 1pm, even though induction isn't until 2. They didn't want to leave it particularly close. She's down to 47.2kilograms, which means 22.8kilograms in her bag and clothes. Her father runs around, adjusting things; Annisa tries to breathe evenly and not get nauseous and not ask for a sip of water, even though she wants a sip of water. The sip of water wouldn't kill her - they could take a couple grams out - but the kind of girl who asks for the sip of water is the kind of girl who dies.
Her father gives her mother and her sisters permission to hug her rather grudgingly - before final weigh-in, so he can mop sweat off her skin afterwards - and they hug, though it doesn't quite do anything for her. She told them several years ago to stop saying 'when you come back', which they said to her brothers. Yovan is crying, even though Yovan is nine and too old for that. The touch of their skin on hers is nauseating. Her father shoos them off and weighs her in again.
She has: three sleeveless lightweight fabric shirt, brown (one worn, two packed), one loose jacket with the sleeves cut off and hemmed at elbow-length (worn), three pair of lightweight nylon fabric pants, grey (one worn, two packed), three pairs of moisture-wicking underwear, four pairs of lightweight running socks (one worn, three packed), two pairs of laced American running shoes, already broken in, the make that did the best in testing (one worn, one packed), one light silk shirt for senior year, low-cut, optimistically sized, one three-by-four aluminum case with twelve healing cookies, the best they could afford, a meter of lightly enchanted wound dressings, four years of multivitamins, three plastic water pouches, two kilos of ivory figurines carefully tuned for mana storage, currently empty since you can't take mana through induction, an enchanted Swiss army knife, a needle and spool of thread and needlepoint supplies, a lightning shield-talisman on her belt-strap (her father made those, so they could spend all their money on the healing cookies, where exceptional talent goes a lot farther), broad-spectrum antibiotics, eighty tabs of ibuprofen, eighty tabs of Adderall and six of cocaine, four ounces of eye injury wash, a potion for poison, activated charcoal for less severe poison, an IUD (in), a LifeStraw, a lightweight emergency blanket with a minor healing enchantment, a bundle of letters for kids already inside, and one lightweight backpack to carry it all in.
All in all it had cost twenty two thousand dollars (though they were making back five on the letters), which took eight years to save, and Annisa was very aware that enclavers spent more.
"Sixty nine point nine four" Annisa's father says.
"She can have a drink of water, she looks dead on her feet," Annisa's mother says.
Annisa glares daggers at her.
"She can have one more LifeStraw, trade 'em," says her father, and tucks it in to the backpack, and whistles at the scale, which only says sixty nine point nine seven but you don't want to bet on the perfect calibration of the scale (even though they tested it, and it was pretty much perfect).
He takes a step back. "English for, I'm well prepared and I'm going to be studious and clever and careful," he says to her.
For some reason - probably the nausea - her mouth is too dry to answer him, and a second later she feels the tug around her midsection that means induction's started.