Page 14 of Sweet Venom

“Hello.”

I froze. My fingers tightened around the handle of the nearest knife as I looked up, not expecting to see anyone.

But there she was.

A little girl stood in the doorway. She couldn’t have been more than four or five. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders like silk. But it was her eyes that caught me first—wide, luminous, and impossibly green. Almost unreal.

And yet... they weren’t what stunned me most.

It was the weight in them. That quiet depth. That strange stillness. She didn’t blink much. She didn’t fidget. She just... looked at me.

She looked like a doll. Fragile. Breakable.

I didn’t speak. My throat locked up. But I couldn’t look away. Something about her seemed out of place in my world, like a beam of light trapped in a place that had never seen morning.

Why is she here? Who is she? And why the hell hasn’t she run yet?

She wore a black dress—deep, velvety black with lace edging the sleeves and hem like spiderwebs. It flared around her knees, delicate and oddly elegant for someone so small. Something out of a gothic tea party—like the ones Kadra loved so much. The dress shimmered in the low light, casting mature shadows across her face, despite her youth.

She reminded me of Wednesday Addams.

A blue headband perched atop her head, two tiny heart-shaped antennae springing from it. They looked more like devil horns than Valentine’s cheer. Subtle patterns of black roses or maybe twisting vines were woven into the dress, catching the light in all the wrong ways. She reminded me of the night—dark, cold, but... pretty.

She was pretty.

And I didn’t think anything was pretty anymore.

But those eyes—those green, glowing eyes—felt like something torn from a dream I didn’t deserve to have.

She tilted her head, the headband slipping slightly. Her gaze never left mine. She watched me with a softness I didn’t understand. She waited, like she knew something about me I didn’t.

She didn’t speak again. She just stood there.

So I said nothing. I didn’t trust myself to speak. I didn’t trust what I might say—or do.

Then, finally, she broke the silence again. Her voice was soft. Sweet. “Do you want to read with me? I’m reading The Little Prince,” she said, suddenly shy.

Another long pause passed.

Her chubby cheeks flushed pink. Her nose twitched. She looked down, then back up.

Pretty...

The Little Prince.

The first book I ever read. The only one that gave me any kind of peace back in hell.

But I didn’t answer her.

I wanted to. The words sat on the edge of my tongue, but they refused to move. I glanced at her again—so small, so fragile. And for some reason, the voices in my head were quiet.

Not even Kadra or Vitali could do that.

She waited.

And when I still didn’t speak, she smiled again—softer this time—and whispered, “It’s okay. We don’t have to read. Or talk.” She moved slightly, settling onto the floor beside me. “I’ll just sit here. I won’t bother you. Promise.”

She smiled with her whole face.

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