Page 75 of Whispers of Wisteria
I swallowed. “The boys,” I murmured. “At least, the ones treated like me.”
The silence that followed somehow made it easier.
“Most of the girls were different,” I continued.
Gloria had been listening quietly. Now, she pulled out a notebook. “How were you different?”
As the others followed, I stepped into the kitchen, my boots scuffing against the warped, stained tiles. “Most of the girls were meant to be adopted. They lived in another part of the house. They had nice things and good food. They were never…”
The words caught in my throat.
The ceiling light was missing a sconce. Had that been from the fire? Or before?
“He didn’t want them dying,” I finished, my voice flat.
Silence.
Uncle Gregory cleared his throat. “How often did a hunt end in someone dying?”
“Not often,” I said. “Only if things got out of control.”
“And how often did the hunts themselves take place?”
I could feel the weight of the others’ stares. Damen was too close, and his warmth pressed against my back.
“Once or twice a month,” I answered.
Gregory’s voice softened. “Did it ever end at the hunt?”
My breath hitched. The empty comfort I’d found in detachment wavered.
Damen stepped in. “You don’t have to answer that.”
I did, though.
I hadn’t planned on even saying this much. But now that I was here… I had to make it count.
“It wasn’t the same for everyone,” I murmured. “The boys were left alone if they lived. But there were two other girls. They weren’t hunted, but they saw… people.”
Gregory’s next question came too fast. “What happened to them?”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
It felt like no time had passed at all. I felt their presence and their kindness. I could still taste the stolen bits of food and hear their reassurances.
“O-only one is alive,” I whispered. “I—I don’t know what happened to her.”
“Do you remember their names?” Gloria asked.
“C-Chaya,” I said. “And Nisha.”
There was a silence before Gloria asked again, “Who made it out?”
“Chaya—” Shame spread through my chest as I stared at a burnt section of the floor. “Nisha died because of me. But Chaya is alive.”
“Are you certain it was Chaya who escaped?” Gloria asked.
I tilted my head. “Chaya used to sing with me before we got into t-trouble, and I could tell them apart. So yes.”
