Page 87 of Whispers of Wisteria
I knew that, of course, but I was still startled. Despite being obvious, there’d never been a reason to discuss it.
This was the first time she’d ever brought it up.
“I had a southern accent once,” she said. “When I was really little.”
My heart was beating faster, and my palms itched.
I’d suspected. Her memories gave the slightest hint, but it’d been barely discernible. Plus, the comments she’d made about vegetation and wildlife.
“It bothered Kieran. He tried to teach me to speak without it.” She continued to pick at the blanket. “Then I lost it when I learned to talk again.”
“There’s nothing wrong with an accent, darlin’,” I told her. “Everyone’s got one somewhere.”
“I know that.” Bianca looked at me, confused. “That’s what I was telling you.”
Was it?
There was something else she’d said that stood out more.
“You learned to talk twice?” I tried to keep my tone nonchalant.
My excitement faded into disappointment as her expression shuttered closed. She chewed the inside of her cheek. Even though it’d come up naturally, I’d pushed too hard.
But Bianca surprised me.
“Yes.” She pulled the blanket around her shoulders. “I wasn’t able to anymore after I got hurt. She taught me to talk again.”
“She?” I asked.
“Chaya,” she said.
The name didn’t mean anything to me, but maybe the others might know.
“I—” Bianca began, seeing my reaction. “I knew her from th-that place.”
She looked away.
“Are you okay?” I nudged her. “I heard you had a rough time yesterday.”
Bianca pressed her mouth against her knees. “I’m fi-fine.”
“Tell me.”
She shook her head.
“But you’re afraid,” I pointed out.
She didn’t argue.
“Do you want me to help?” I asked, lifting my hand.
She looked at me, knowing, without words, what I was offering. “Y-yeah,” she replied in a voice I could barely hear.
My face flushed with uncomfortable heat. I’d half-expected her to refuse. She rarely asked for help.
But not this time.
“Okay.” I trailed my fingers across her shoulders, pulling her closer.
