Page 97 of Nikola
My gaze flitted to him, his lips set in a grim line.
“How can you say that?” Mama signed, her cheeks wet and her nose dripping. Papa reached for a handkerchief and dabbed it dry. “If something happened to you?—”
Papa’s expression softened. “I’m here. Everything will be okay, and the boy will live. I promise you, Skye.”
I tapped my hand on my chest, the tightness in my lungs suffocating me. I almost lost Nikola and my papa, all because of a relative I didn’t even know existed.
“How could she do that?” My gaze flitted to the blood staining my papa’s shirt. Nikola’s blood. “Why would she do that?”
Papa shook his head. “I never thought she’d hold on to her grudge for this long. She didn’t want your mama to be with me.”
The explanation didn’t make sense, and Mama’s cold expression confirmed it.
“That’s not all of it. She’s the reason Papa forgot about me. She had him tortured while I was giving birth to you, so he wouldn’t come after me. She’s the reason we were deprived of the first five years of your life, Skye. That woman has no scruples.”
A memory probed through a fog, causing my heart to climb up my throat as my own darkness morphed into a nightmare I’d been trying to forget since I was five.
I couldn’t hear my screams, but I imagined them bouncing against the bare white walls. They were lonely, cold and unloved, just like me.
My knees at my chest and my back pressed against the wall, I felt my sobs and tasted my tears. I went to wipe them with my right hand, but a handcuff kept my wrist captive.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, using my free hand.
The woman was my foster parent, but all she did was keep me chained to the cold radiator in this bare room. She didn’t want me, that much was clear, but she’d taken me into her home anyway.
“Why?” I asked again.
I wished for a big family, warm hugs and affection that would keep me cocooned in safety. But I knew the chances of getting that were slim. The woman had told me so herself.
“Nobody wants a deaf handicap,” she spat when she brought me here.
I wasn’t a handicap. Couldn’t she see that I was a normal girl? I just used my hands instead of my mouth to speak, but I could do anything that any other girl could do.
The door opened and the tall figure wearing a golden robe appeared. She would be pretty if not for the cold eyes and disgusted curl to her lips when she looked at me. I watched her warily as she made her way over, strutting like a queen.
Her silver-white hair was wrapped in an elegant chignon, accenting her big diamond hoop earrings. She reminded me of rich, old ladies that I’d sometimes see in the old movies.
“Someone’s adopting you,” she spoke slowly, intended for me to understand her. “You speak a word of this, and I’ll ensure your adoption is null and void.”
My brows furrowed, not understanding her. She acted like she owned me, had power over me, but it was clear she hated having me in her home. She’d shoved me into this room the moment we arrived and kept me handcuffed so I couldn’t even move.
“I want to go now,” I signed with my free hand, my body stiff and achy,
“Such a disgrace on a family,” the woman muttered, oblivious to what I’d said. The woman couldn’t understand ASL.
I never used my voice. One of the kids I used to play with once told me my voice was broken and ugly and I never used it again. But today something urged me to make a stance. I wanted this woman to know I’d never think of her again. She wouldn’t define me.
“I’m not your family,” I signed again, and then because I wanted to make it clear, I pushed the words out, “No… Family.”
The slap across my face whipped my head to the side and stole the breath from my lungs. My eyes stung with tears while the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
I turned my head back to look at the old woman defiantly, but her next words shocked me even more.
“Defiance doesn’t suit you, little Phoenix.”
Then she laughed and turned on her heel, carrying a mocking expression on her face.
I stared after her with a frozen and shattered heart, wondering if I was meant to be a little Phoenix, not Skye.
