Page 89 of Carnival
“Never too busy for you.’’ She strokes my cheek, my body recoiling. The way she’s looking at me reminds me of the monsters in my dreams. They look at me with such loving eyes, too, but the darkness that lurks beneath always wins, and I end up on the receiving end of their wrath.
“Why are we out here?” I ask, trembling. Half is from the cold, the other half from the sheer fear that fills my veins.
“Because I thought you’d want some fresh air,’’ she smiles, dropping her hand from my cheek. Relief washes over me, and I take a deep breath. I don’t dare to look away from her, terrified of how she could hurt me if given the opportunity.
“Your garden is quite lovely.’’
“It is, isn’t it?” She chuckles. “Your grandfather made it for me before he passed.’’
I swallow thickly. “How did he pass away?”
“I killed him.’’
Of course you did.
“Why?”
“This business came from my side of the family, not your grandfather’s. And he wasn’t thrilled about it when he found out. So, I did what any businesswoman would do. I took out the threat.’’
A hum of acknowledgement slips from me.
I know I should be surprised, but with everything I came to know about her, this is nothing. I’m not even shocked she killed her own husband to protect the business. Oddly enough, Vivian seems to be in a good mood, which is why I decided to bite the bullet.
“How did my parents die?”
Her entire body goes rigid, and for a moment, I think she’s about to snap at me, hit me again, or do something worse, but she doesn’t. She takes a deep breath, trying to steel herself before looking straight into my eyes. Her own are void of any emotion, dull, almost dead.
“They were a threat, my darling. I had to get rid of them.’’
The way she speaks of killing her own daughter makes my skin crawl. No regret, no emotions, just a harsh truth. She viewed them as threats and got rid of them without blinking an eye.
“What about me, then?” I ask, soaking my feet in the snow. The coldness helps ease the ache and pain. Vivian’s gaze hardens more, then she dips her eyes down to my bloody feet. She takes her phone out of her hands, and from the corner of my eye, I immediately memorize the six-number passcode, just in case I need it.
She sends a quick text to someone, then shuts the device off and turns her attention to me. For a moment, she’s silent entirely, almost as if contemplating what to tell me, or rather, how much to reveal.
“Your parents went to great lengths to hide you from me, my dear,’’ she speaks, her voice reeking of contempt. “My daughter— your mother— wasn’t a stupid woman. How could she be? I’m her mother, after all. So, she ensured I wouldn’t be able to touch you after she passed away. Of course, that detail wasn’t brought to my attention until you were already with your first foster family.’’
A frown tugs on my lips. Well, thank God I wasn’t put in her care, but it’s rather weird. She had all the power in the world to take me away out of foster system, especially since she’s my grandmother. None of this is making any sense, and the longer she speaks, the more confused I’m getting.
“You could’ve taken me out of the system, though. Why didn’t you?”
She leans back into the bench, folding her arms in front of her chest neatly, tapping her forearm with her fingers. “Because at the time, I didn’t want to.’’
“Why not?”
Her eyes flick down to my forearm, where the chip with all the information was located, and it’s only for a brief moment, but that one second is enough for me to understand. Vivian knew that the chip was quite literally in me.
“It was safer for both you and me. I’m not the only person looking for that chip, you know. There are plenty of crime organizations that would risk everything to get their hands on it. So, I let you be, always watching from afar, ensuring both you and the chip are safe.’’
“Safe?” I scoff, eyes widening in disbelief. Even though I know that I shouldn’t be confronting her like this, I can’t stop the words from spilling out of my mouth. “That first foster family I was with was a nightmare. They were abusive to all of their fosterkids, not just me. And let’s not forget the final house I was in. Where I actually killed someone. You didn’t stay away to protect me, but I’m glad as fuck I never knew you.’’
The slap comes harshly, and I expect it. The stinging sensation fills me, and I bite the inside of my cheek, staring right into her eyes. Her own holds my gaze, unfaltering. She’s challenging me silently, and I’m not sure how much I can push her.
“Do not speak to me like that, girl,’’ she lowers her voice, speaking in a hushed, dangerous tone.
My attention shifts to someone approaching us, and to my surprise, it’s a doctor. Well, I think it is, given the white coat and the bag he’s carrying. He doesn’t even look at me, or acknowledge me in any way.
He gets on his knees before me, pulling out a small red mat from his bag and putting my feet on it. He starts cleaning my feet with cotton swabs and alcohol, and I wince each time he hits an open wound. They may be small, but they hurt a lot, especially since some have only now stopped bleeding.
