You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 167

I followed the woman to a small house not too far from the restaurant. It was a detached little unit, the stucco crazed with hairline cracks telling you exactly how long it had been standing.

"I see you came afterall. Thought you'd keep walking till a burger fell from heaven and slapped you in the mouth," she threw at me, dropping her grocery bags and patting every pocket for keys.

I rubbed my palm against my arm, glancing around. The place looked quiet and calm. It should be safe.

She opened the door and waited for me to go in first. The house smelt of camphor and lemon polish, with a shy line of yesterday's tea underneath. Nothing here was modern: a low glass table wore a crocheted doily, the floral sofa had faded to the color of old postcards, and the sideboard held family photos in cloudy frames. The curtains were thin and sun-bleached with light coming in gentled. Everything was scrubbed and arranged with care carefully applied where money wasn't.

"Sit. I'll get the soup heated before you eat the wallpaper."

I watched her walk into the kitchen behind the living room before heading to the dining to sit.

Being idle gave me too much room to think. What came after this meal? I'd need some money, a place to stay. That means I'd definitely need a job.

But what kind of job could I possibly do? And what if Blayne comes sniffing? God, I didn't know the first thing about survival.

The woman walked back in with a steaming bowl of broth and a chunk of baguette with cold butter sweating on the side. My mouth watered as I stared at it like it was gold. She set it down, returned to the kitchen, and returned shortly with sweet potato chunks. I was already devouring the broth before she even set those down.

"God Almighty, have you been in a den? You look like you've been feeding on sand your whole life."

I had no doubt she was referring to the way I ate. I didn't care. I picked at everything and shoved as much as I could into my mouth. My clothes took some splashes. I didn't even blink and kept spooning.

The woman sat close to me, crossed her hands and watched me like I was an interesting program. It wasn't until I'd eaten up to half of everything on the table that I hit slow and really noticed her.

"Thank you. It's... delicious." Actually the best thing I've had in weeks. Blayne fed us like charity cases eating on his dime.

"Hm. I was beginning to think you'd mail your gratitude." She picked a chip from a can on the table and crunched.

"Where you from?"

I paused with food inches from my mouth. "Far from here."

"Right. How precise. Why did you run?"

I sent her a cautious glance, pulse in my throat.

"Come on, girl. It's obvious you ran. Have you seen a mirror lately?"

I took a hard swallow. "Long story."

"So, what's the name?"

Two spoonfuls bought me time to stitch a close-enough lie. "Zera."

She repeated the name and frowned. "Strange name."

I didn't know when I screamed along with the voices in my head. My hands clamped over my ears. My eyes went shut. But those didn't help. The voices kept growing.

Finally, I did the single thing that felt like rescue. My fist found the mirror and the sound of it breaking was the only language my body had left. The satisfaction that followed was small and awful and wholly necessary.

But the satisfaction barely settled before panic evicted it.

"Hey! What the hell!?" The voice was distant and tiny, as if I were underwater.

I didn't have time to compose anything heroic. The world tipped, and I was on the floor, my nails scraping the concrete, gasping for the kind of air that felt real. My chest tightened into a fist that would not relax. Light slashed across the broken tiles and my eyes stayed open because closing them felt like letting everything fall through.

Suddenly, I could see them, hear them. Claudia. Josephine. The other girls. The cleaner in my room.

I killed the cleaner. I stabbed her and watched her bleed to death. I'd stolen another person's future for the chance at my own.

Something warm wrapped around my shoulders. Didn't realize it was the woman who had scooped me up like a child and set me against her chest.

"I can't... breathe," I choked.

"You can, honey. You sure can. Calm the hell down. No one's coming to get you. No one's coming to hurt you."

But she was wrong. Blayne would never give up until he found me. No matter how hard I tried, he was going to catch me. And I knew he'd make my life hell again.