Page 25 of Broken By Silence
This isn’t just comfort food… It’s a mission.
I’m just finishing the base—ground beef browned with onion and garlic, tomato paste being cooked out, when Claire enters.
“Did you get it?” I call out.
Claire holds up a paper bag like it contains something sacred. “I had to hit the farmer’s market. These are fresh from the stall where the vendor just cackled when I asked if they were hot.” She steps closer, eyeing the bubbling pot on the stove, and grins. “How’s your revenge chilli going?”
“Almost ready for phase two,” I say, nodding toward the bag. “Did you get the kind that makes people cry, or the kind that makes them hallucinate?”
She pulls out a small container. “No clue. Let’s find out.”
I laugh. More than I probably should, but there’s something about this. The absurdity. The control. The simple joy of being able to get revenge from something as simple as pain on a spoon without making someone bleed… it feels like victory.
Claire dumps a generous spoonful of chopped peppers into the pot just as footsteps thud down the hallway. Oscarappears first, hoodie half-zipped.“Something smells dangerous…”he pauses next to me, and leans over the pot, recoiling instantly.“Jesus, Lottie. This is a war crime.”
Archer follows a moment later, his voice raspy with sleep from his nap. “Is my girl making revenge chili?”
Claire doesn’t even try to hide her smile. “She is.”
“You look proud, Mom. Did you put her up to this?” Archer asks her, his tone accusing.
“So what if I did. Just because that boy is laid up in a hospital bed doesn’t absolve him of his crimes…”
Archer snorts, crossing his arms. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”
Claire cuts him off. “Not in this house. You should know that. In this house, revenge is served, hot, spicy, and with a side of gastrointestinal regret.”
Oscar huffs.“God. We’re all going to die.”
We all burst out laughing.
I lift my chin proudly. “Only if you eat it. Which you won’t, because I made a separate batch just for us.”
Archer leans against the counter, arms crossed, smiling in that half-amused, half-suspicious way he does. “Are they all going to be victims of the other batch?”
“Only if they are stupid enough to eat anything I hand them,” I chuckle.
Oscar snorts.“So yes.”
Claire hums. “I made sure of it. Asked the hospital staff only to give them slop. They’ve been complaining about the hospital food since last night. Told them you were bringing something extra special later.”
Claire holds her hand out for a high five, and I oblige her, then ladle the demon-spawn chili into two large containers. One for Roman, and the other two if they even dare. Then I carefully label them all, ensuring that I don't mix up the two differentbatches.
Oscar points to his.“That one better be the least spicy. You know I can’t handle it.”
The hospital room is bigger than it needs to be. One of the ones meant for longer stays, with a view of the parking lot and chairs that are far from comfortable. Roman’s sitting up, his IV arm draped across his lap. His color’s better than yesterday, but he still looks like someone chewed him up and spit him out.
Elijah’s by the window, sipping bad coffee from one of the machines. Crew’s perched on the side of Roman’s bed, phone in hand. When we walk in, Roman’s face lights up. “Please tell me you’ve brought some real food.”
“I did. Homemade chili, though I’m not sure any of you deserve some.”
Crew groans dramatically. “If I have to eat one more cheese sandwich…”
I cut him off, pulling out the three containers. I hand one to Roman, and two to Crew and Elijah. “Enjoy.”
Archer and Oscar exchange a look, barely hiding their amusement as they pass out spoons. Crew cracks his lid open first. “Smells amazing.” He takes a bite. Pauses. Blinks. Then his mouth opens wide as he fans himself with one hand. “Holy?—”
Elijah frowns and tastes his own. “It’s fine,” he says stubbornly. Then coughs loudly. Oscar leans against the far wall, eating from his own container with the most innocent expression I’ve ever seen on him.
