A Bard’s Lament (Part 8)

Read part 1
Read part 2
Read part 3
Read part 4
Read part 5
Read part 6
Read part 7

Part 8

“Sorry, we’re closed,” Gregor called as Ella slid into the tavern. “Oh. Hi, Ella,” he added, appearing from the back with a box in his arms. “What’s the matter?”

Cold wetness clung to Ella’s tunic, sticking to her like a second skin. She headed for the fireplace and slid the lute case from her back. Emotion bubbled inside her.

“Lucinda,” she whispered. Gregor put the box down and kneeled beside her. His warmth gave her comfort, but she shook from cold and fear.

“She’s in the Rathole,” she whispered. Gregor gave a sympathetic sigh beside her.

“How could I have ignored it?” she buried her face in her hands. “She’s hooked on Lilac Flame, I know it. Now they’ve taken her… down there.”

The anxiety of the past week bubbled until it overcame Ella in short, harsh sobs. Gregor held her as the fire crackled beside them. With the warmth from the flames and Gregor’s large body against her, Ella felt calm sweep through her. Feeling focused, she dried her stinging eyes.

“I’m getting her out.”
“You’re what?” Gregor pulled back. His grey eyes were filled with concern.
“I’m going,” Ella got to her feet. “I lost my ma to that life, Gregor. I won’t lose Lucinda, too. Can you lend me some clothes?”

*

Ella peered into the bowl of water that Gregor had given her. A man’s hat adorned her head, where she had tied her red hair in a tight bun and stuffed under the hat. A too-big tunic sat on her frame over ripped cloth she’d tightly wrapped round her chest to bind her breasts. She looked at herself in the water. Would she pass?

“Not bad,” Gregor commented when he saw her. “But your…” he cleared his throat, and his brown cheeks went a shade darker. “Your hips are moving too much when you walk. Walk more like a man.”

Perhaps it was the severity of the situation or how jittery she felt, but Ella giggled nervously as Gregor sauntered in front of her with exaggerated swagger. Her laughter died on her lips when he asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“She’s my sister, Gregor.”

After a little more practice, Ella felt ready. “The guards won’t do anything about Lucinda. It’s probably Caskhell or Sackle who put her there in the first place, so it’s up to me.”
Gregor watched her, his arms folded. Ella didn’t know if it was scorn or pity that adorned his face. She almost couldn’t bear the silence.

“I’ll see you in an hour or so,” she swallowed.
“How are you going to get in and out? I heard there’s a guard who guards the cellar door.”

Ella thought back to when she was a child: the nauseating scent of Lilac Flame, the dark cellar, the narrow passageway, and the surprise on the guard’s face when Ella had appeared as if from nowhere.

“The trapdoor,” she answered. Patrons used the cellar entrance, and Ella was certain she was the only one, aside from Kerra, who knew about the trapdoor. “The guard is on the other side of the wall. He won’t see me, and if I do I’ll just…” she cleared her throat and finished her sentence in a deeper tone that she hoped sounded like a man, “got lost.”

“Right,” Gregor nervously rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Ella… I’m sorry, but if you’re caught… there’s nothing I can do to help you. My father…”

“I know,” Ella nodded. Fear clenched her heart. For the first time, she truly felt alone.

*

The rain had stopped, but thick clouds blocked the moon from shining on the dark street. The residential area was almost empty; curtains had been drawn, a single street lamp burned on the other side of the road, where two drunk farmers sang with their arms round each other’s shoulders.

Ella’s heart hammered against her chest, the too-tight binds almost crushing her body. She had felt safer when the rain fell. It may have been foolish, but the falling curtain of rain seemed to muffle everything.

At first, she walked down the street normally, trying to put more movement into her shoulders like Gregor had showed her. She hoped that if the guards saw her, they would assume that she was another villager going home after a few at the tavern. She wanted nothing more than to run home and go to bed.

There’s still time to back out, she reasoned.

But she couldn’t. Knowing the Rathole existed was bad enough, but knowing that with each passing moment, her sister was being drugged and abused… Ella couldn’t walk away from that.

She neared the empty house on Laxx Street, where water from the rainstorm dripped from the splintered wood. The smell of wet concrete and honey stung her nostrils. If I go down there, I might never come out, the terrifying thought occurred to her.

Guards turned a blind eye to this place and according to the town nobles, it didn’t exist. If Ella walked away, Lucinda would be forgotten, a name struck from history. The same could happen to Ella. No one would mention the bard or the harlot.

For a moment, she wavered.

Then she took a step forward to the front door and pushed it open. Fear would never overcome her. Without Lucinda, nothing else mattered. She wouldn’t let her have this fate, even if it meant she would die getting her out.

The building showed no sign of life, except the lack of dust in the area before the entrance. The door to the cellar was clearly visible from where she stood in the doorway. Ella went right instead of left, her ears pricked. It took her several moments to find the mouldy old rug that covered the trapdoor, and by the time she’d pulled the iron ring to open the door with a whine, she was shivering. From cold or from fright, she didn’t know.

Dark stairs, identical to her childhood memory, greeted her. A sickly sweet, smoky aroma churned her stomach. It’s now or never.

Ella exhaled, and white mist blew from her mouth. She descended and closed the trapdoor behind her, her palms sweating as she clutched the pouch of coins at her neck. She felt she was walking into a nightmare.

With no lantern to light it and no daylight leaking from the above floorboards, the corridor at the bottom of the staircase was pitch black. Feeling her way along, Ella followed it, turning the corner to find the narrow gap in the wall. At first, she worried that she wouldn’t be able to fit through, but she edged along between the walls, trying not to breathe or step too loudly; every noise she made echoed. The corridor was dark and reeked of sweat, smoke, and the sickly sweet honey-like scent. Ella clamped her jaws together to stop her teeth from chattering.

Once upon a time, the underbelly of this house may have been a wine cellar or something similar. Now, as the end of the narrow passageway finally greeted Ella, the stone around her was covered in moss, reeking of neglect and damp. She breathed in relief as she reached the wall to the corridor where she knew the guard stood. The reek was starting to take a hold on her senses. Lilac Flame wasn’t addictive by the scent, but Ella covered her mouth with her sleeve, her stomach churning.

Stairs on the right along the corridor greeted her, just as they had in her childhood. The guard wasn’t around, but the lantern burned low on the wall, casting flickering light on the corridor. Ella slipped through the archway on the left, pulling the hat low over her eyes.

With the hundreds of bodies in such a small space, the clammy air of the Rathole felt warmer than the floors above. Soft moans and grunts greeted Ella as she came to several narrow corridors leading off in different directions. This place is a maze, Ella realised. How was she going to find Lucinda?

She crept along the dark corridors, where crude wooden fences and dirty curtains separated each small area. Small, glass lamps on the ground lit the way here and there, but there were no windows; did the girls who were kept here ever see daylight?

Some areas behind curtains had the sickening sounds of grunting and soft wailing coming from behind; others, Ella saw when she peeked inside, had the motionless figures of Night Elf and Forest Elf girls, sleeping beneath blankets or staring off into the distance with the same glazed, half-awake look that Lucinda had had when she’d curled up on the armchair. Pity surged through Ella, along with desperation. Only Elves. Elves everywhere. Was Lucinda really down here, or had Skave made a mistake?

The stench of Lilac Flame was in everything; the walls, the floors, and the curtains, sticking to Ella’s tunic and hair, making her want to gag. It had to be more than just Caskhell selling the stuff; there had to be two hundred girls here at least. Drugged into stupors and used. It’s disgusting. Dragons, how could you let this happen?

As she turned the corner of one of the “rooms” where the curtains were thrown open, Ella’s heart jumped when she saw the pale, thin figure of a redheaded girl, lying on a bundle of blankets with her face turned away. She crouched down beside her and gently titled the girl’s face.

It wasn’t Lucinda.

The Elf girl gave a soft moan, pain in her young face. Her eyes fluttered open; they were the colour of sapphires. The greyish-yellow of a bruise was starting to form on her pale cheek.

“I’ll be good to you,” the Elf whispered, her voice weak and raspy. Ella fought back tears.

“Just hold on a little longer,” Ella whispered.
The girl’s body shuddered in Ella’s arms. “So c-cold,” she inhaled like a wounded animal gasping for breath. “Co…”

The Elf’s body shook and her head went limp. Ella sat paralysed for what felt like an eternity. Hot tears fell, landing on the lifeless girl’s cheek. “May you join beloved Parrax in the night sky,” she eventually uttered. She gently laid the girl’s body back on the dirty sheets and closed her eyes, curtaining the dead sapphires. “I’m sorry.”

Ella’s shoulders shook as she crawled through the curtain and back to the corridor. At least she didn’t die alone, was her only comforting thought as she hugged herself, the girl’s pale face pressing on her memory.

She jumped when someone joined the corridor a little way down. He was a hulking figure, someone Ella may have seen at the Respite, his back to her and fiddling with the string of his trousers. He lumbered towards Ella as she froze on the spot.

In the half-dark, the brute gave a lopsided smile. “Evening,” he tipped his hat, as casually as if he was greeting someone at the market. Ella’s body refused to move as the man passed her without a second glance. It felt like a lifetime before she finally exhaled, all the fear and relief blowing out of her like Yuelif’s warm breeze.

A woman’s hand reached out from the curtain in a clumsy wave. A bronze signet ring adorned her thin finger.

Lucinda!

Making sure the man had gone, Ella raced along the corridor to where the grubby curtain had closed. She crouched down and opened it. Lucinda lay there, her dressed ripped open, a confused frown on her face.

“No,” Lucinda moaned, shaking her head as though drunk. “Someone was just here… choose someone else…”

Ella closed the curtain behind her and sat beside her sister. “Lu, it’s me,” she whispered, cupping Lucinda’s face and pulling her close. “It’s me, it’s Ella. I’m getting you out.”

Lucinda thrashed at first, but Ella held her close, humming Hilltop Sunrise. “…and we sing hello to the welcoming dawn. Ma used to sing it to us, remember?” She stroked Lucinda’s hair. Her sister gave a dry sob.

“Can you stand?”

“It’s too dangerous,” Lucinda groaned as she struggled to stand, her weight sagging against her sister’s. “Guard’s there.”

“Don’t you remember when we were kids and I found that trapdoor, Lu?” Ella whispered. “It’s still there. I don’t think anyone knows about it.”

With her free hand, Ella threw open the makeshift curtain and looked left and right. The customer had gone right, towards where the guard and the entrance lay. That meant that the trapdoor was on the left, back to the narrow passageway.

“Come on, Lu,” Ella urged as her sister slumped against her. They stumbled along the corridor, past a room with frightening grunts and the weak cry of an Elf girl – Ella’s heart bled – and back towards the narrow corridor.

As they were edging through the gap in the wall, a shadow moved on the other side the corridor, an Ella froze, gripping Lucinda’s arm.

Somebody was lumbering towards the stairs, his steps heavy and his arms swinging by his sides. Ella’s heart thumped painfully against her chest as she pressed Lucinda against the wall and into the shadows. She didn’t dare move, yet if he came any closer, he’d surely see them lurking in the corner. The man took a few more steps towards them… and then turned to the staircase, stomping up and throwing open the door with a loud creak.

Ella resisted the urge to breathe a loud sigh of relief, then helped Lucinda through the narrow passageway. It was a squeeze with them both, but they finally reached the cellar under the trapdoor, Lucinda gasping as though she’d run for miles.

“Just a little farther, Lu,” Ella encouraged her as they crept up the stone steps to the trapdoor. As Lucinda sat on the steps, clutching her chest, Ella pushed the trapdoor.

It didn’t move.

Panic surged through her as she gave the trapdoor another shove, to no avail. “It isn’t opening!” she whispered, pushing upwards.

A footstep sounded above them.

Ella froze. If somebody opened the trapdoor and discovered them now, there was nowhere they could hide. Ella braced for the trapdoor to swing open, for the surprised shout, but the footsteps faded away. The only sound Ella could hear was her own frantic heart and Lucinda’s rasping breaths.

When she was sure the person had gone, she pushed the trapdoor again and it opened with a creak. Whoever was there only moments ago must have been standing on it.

Ella felt horribly vulnerable when they were outside and had left the old house behind. She wasn’t sure what the guards would do if they saw them stumbling along the cobbled road. Their shack was too far away from here, and Lucinda looked to be on the verge of collapsing.

“Just a little farther,” she whispered.

A Bard’s Lament (Part 7)

Read part 1
Read part 2
Read part 3
Read part 4
Read part 5
Read part 6

Part 7

It wasn’t unusual for Ella to wake up in their room with Lucinda’s small straw mattress vacant, a sad and lonely sight that always conjured up dark images of her sister pinned beneath some hulking miner.

Ella washed and packed up her lute, and fifteen minutes later she was humming her favourite song, Hilltop Sunrise, as she strolled along the street. Their mother had often sung them to sleep with the melody when they were small, and it always made her feel calm.

“…The stars fade away,
A new day is born,
And we sing hello
To the welcoming dawn.”

Despite the peace that the song washed over her, Ella couldn’t help brooding at the only thing, besides the house, that they had inherited from their mother: thousands of nobels of debt. It trickled away year by year as Mr. Farwing smugly took half of their earnings every night – the earnings that Gregor let him set his greedy little eyes on, anyway. Ella absent-mindedly nudged the pouch of coins around her neck again.

Unlike the past few mornings, which had dawned bright and clear, grey clouds hung in the sky and the taste of rain was in the air. Ella wanted to visit the marketplace again, but was put off by the possibility of seeing Caskhell and his cronies again, or Captain Sackle. Her threat had been empty when she’d said that she would go to the captain of the guard about Caskhell selling Lilac Flame. It was likely that Sackle already knew about the drug and worse, let it happen. The guards were so deep in the nobles’ pockets that Ella never went to them for even the smallest problem. To approach Sackle about Caskhell’s drug selling would earn her several weeks in the Jewel Mansion dungeons, maybe worse.

As though trying to confirm her fears, Ella spotted the hilly pathway that stretched towards the cemetery. Beside it were the gallows, constructed from wood and blackstone. Ella supressed a shudder when she remembered the news that a vagabond, whom Sackle had caught stealing a loaf of bread, had been hung there the previous year.

Didn’t Caskhell, whose parents apparently owned most of the blackstone mines and probably dwelled in or near the Jewel Mansion, have anything better to do than harass stray dogs? Probably not, Ella reasoned, kicking a few pebbles as she went. He’s probably bored out of his mind since he doesn’t have to work all day to scrape a living.

A short walk to and from the library brought miserable, drizzling rain by mid-morning, so Ella passed the day writing songs at home, the weather putting her off going anywhere public. The house felt lonely and by the late afternoon, even the lute’s tinkling notes weren’t enough company. Without writing down her new song, Ella headed to the Dragonstone to pray.

The Dragonstone was a grand statue in front of the cathedral that separated the nobles’ mansions with the modest shacks of the other townspeople. Four stone Dragons encircled a tall, slim mountain, enormous stone wings unfurled to the sky. The Dragonstone was said to guard the villages from trespassers and disease, and was a way to connect with Yuelif, Lifa, Kelten, and Parrax, the four Dragon Gods.

Ella touched the bottom of the Dragonstone, whispering a prayer for her sister. “Please let Lucinda be all right,” she said, letting the warmth from the Dragons wash over her. A breeze blew from the north; Yuelif, the northern Dragon, was offering his protection. Feeling better, Ella bowed to the Dragonstone and headed to the Pitman’s Respite.

*

“Have you seen Lucinda?” Ella asked Gregor as she sat at the bar, breaking a chunk of bread to dip into her stew. The tavern was still quiet; she wouldn’t have to unpack her lute for a while, yet.

“Not since the day before yesterday,” Gregor’s large palms lay flat on the bar, his neck craned as he stared at the door. “Couple of people been asking after her, but…”

“I see,” Ella’s heart sank. The stew sitting in front of her suddenly didn’t look so appetising.

“She’ll be all right,” Gregor’s large hand moved across the bar to settle on hers. It was warm against Ella’s cold fingers. “You might get home tonight and she’ll be there, already asleep.”

Ella doubted it. Today was the day off for most merchants and miners, and so the Pitman’s Respite would be busier than usual come sundown.

As the evening wore on with still no sign of Lucinda, Ella saw from the corner of her eye that some of the men were hopefully looking round for her sister. Many of the men were married; Ella knew their wives.

That’s all Lucinda is known for.

It sickened her.

*

Coins dropped with dull jingles into Ella’s upturned hat as she finished her seventh song of the night. Over a week had now passed with still no sign of Lucinda, and Ella’s anxiety was turning to panic. This was the longest she had ever gone without seeing her sister, and she felt oddly detached, as if a part of her was missing. Ella’s voice shook as she sang her last song, but by then the patrons were so merry that no one noticed the tremble in her soprano.

After counting three nobels, fourteen sagles, and nine tullies – one of her best nights yet – Ella quickly packed up her lute. She handed over half of her earnings over to Gregor as usual, who grimaced at her with a look of pity.

“Here.” He slid over one of the nobels. “He doesn’t have to know.”

Ella put her hand over the coin, her palm covering the ever-watching eye of Mage Shavon. She glanced over at the nearest table, where some off-duty guards – thankfully, not including Sackle – were having a loud, drunken conversation about blackstone exports. A table of farmers – Ella could tell by their sunburnt faces, several shades darker than the guardsmen – were singing together, slurring most of the words.

Ella snatched up the nobel and tucked it into her pouch. “Thank you,” she whispered.

A cold wind was blowing when Ella left the Pitman’s Respite. Pattering rain fell onto the stone cobbled streets, and a shiver ran through her as she headed along the street. Something told her Lucinda wasn’t home, however desperately Ella clung to the hope. As she passed the dark houses, where curtains were closed against the pouring rain, Ella caught a familiar scent. Her stomach lurched. Honey and smoke permeated the damp air. Her eyes wandered to the abandoned building, and dread crawled in her stomach.

Was Lucinda in there? Ella had angered Caskhell, after all… had he ordered for the guards to take her down, out of revenge or spite?

There was only one man who would know for sure.

Ella’s boots splashed into puddles, her lute case banging painfully against her back as she darted along the streets, searching in the dark corners until she found a small makeshift shelter. She approached it, wondering how Skave could hope to sleep when the rain plonked so heavily on the metal sheet that covered it.

“Skave?” she called.

“Who’s there?” There was a flash of steel.

“Easy! It’s me!” Ella darted back as Skave crouched, his skinny arm wielding a knife, slashing the air.

“Kelten’s scaly tail!” Skave swore. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Ella eyed the vagabond until he’d tucked the dagger away. “Skave, I need your help. Have you seen Lucinda?”

Skave’s eyes, looking too large, stared sadly up at Ella for a moment before he turned and busied himself with his dirty bedroll. “I don’t know nothin’,” he muttered.

“Skave?” Ella slowly crouched until she was level with his crouching figure. The rain pounded into her back and her lute case, making her shiver. “Please. You’ve seen her? Where is she?”

“I said I don’t know nothin’!”

Frustration crept up inside Ella. She glared at the vagabond in the darkness. “Fine,” she pulled at the pouch around her neck and pulled out a nobel coin. “Now do you know where she is?”

She held it out, the side with Mage Shavon’s eye facing down, away from his eye’s sight. Skave hungrily eyed the coin. He reached out with bony fingers and snatched it out of her hand. “They took her.” His voice was raspy, barely audible over the rain.

“Who took her?” Frustration turned to panic. “Took her where?”
Skave rocked back and forth, holding the nobel coin to his chest.
“Skave, where is she?”

“The Rathole.” His arms shook as he hugged his skeletal legs. “I told you nothin’ though, all right? Nothin’!” he called as Ella got to her feet.

“Right, nothing,” she muttered. She got to her feet, the rain suddenly feeling ten times colder.

Video Games, Music, and Ramen in Tokyo

There’s a ramen restaurant near our house. Because of its location, it’s almost unknown, but it’s really trendy. It’s somewhere between a bar and a restaurant and has a theme that’s sort of a mix between music and surfing.

2OQMKX7L

This time, the owner got out his old SNES console and asked us if we wanted to have a go. Food and games?? I’d just spent the past nine hours on the PlayStation 4 but nobody needed to know.

eb9cqNLe

He set it up and we had enormous fun playing Super Mario, Tetris, and Street Fighter 2.

KdN-6QXm

On top of that, we of course got to eat yummy ramen! I like this place because although there isn’t as much variety as other ramen restaurants, the guy can make killer tonkotsu (pork) ramen.

PYXqPVvX

We also had some gyoza dumplings and it was yummy. What a nice evening!

If you find yourself in Meguro, definitely give this place a try. It is right next to Kushi-Katsu Tanaka and it’s called Iki. Here’s the location on Google Maps.

日本語日記しようかな

14歳から日本に興味がありました。

少し変な話ですが、2007年おばあちゃんと弟と一緒にフロリダ州のディズニーランドへ行って、いろいろな国のテーマがありました。そして日本のテーマ場所へ行って、とてもかっこいいな場所だと思いました。それから日本に興味がありました!

japan-1902834_960_720

日本で働きたいを決まりました。たくさんしらべて、日本語を勉強になりました。大学でも勉強したかったから頑張った。おかあさんはCDとかテキストとかを買ってあげました。それから、18歳の時日本へ遊びに行きました。東京が大好きになった!

留学して、日本にずっと住みたい事を決まりました。長野県にも1年半ぐらいに住んで、特別な人に会ってまた東京に引越ししました。

My city! #tokyo #daikanyama #shibuya #tokyotower #japan

A post shared by Poppy Reid (@poppyinjapan) on

今、東京に住んでいます。日本の男(特別な人)にも婚約中と、とても幸せです!

ありがとうございました。

Spoiler-Free Book Review: “Divergent” by Veronica Roth

Netflix is a goldmine of great movies, as many of us know. I watched a dystopian science-fiction movie called Divergent and within about five minutes, I just knew it was a novel first. The way the world was introduced and the sixteen-year-old character was a dead giveaway. I enjoyed the movie, and immediately ordered the book.

divergent

“One choice can transform you. Beatrice Prior’s society is divided into five factions—Candor (the honest), Abnegation (the selfless), Dauntless (the brave), Amity (the peaceful), and Erudite (the intelligent).

Beatrice must choose between staying with her Abnegation family and transferring factions. Her choice will shock her community and herself. But the newly christened Tris also has a secret, one she’s determined to keep hidden, because in this world, what makes you different makes you dangerous.”

I jumped right into this compelling YA! We see the story from the eyes of Beatrice – or Tris, as she’s later called – and we see her faults as well as her strengths, which was refreshing. She talks about her faults without needlessly putting herself down. She knows she is brave, but also knows that she is too selfish for her parents’ faction, and is very likable.

I try not to compare movies with their books (The Vampire’s Assistant, a crappy film based on an incredible horror series, was torturous enough), but I much preferred the book to the movie. More of what Tris did and said made sense, as most of the logic happened in her head and was difficult to portray on screen.

The world was original. It was set at some point in the future in a city, presumably in the United States, after a war has torn the world apart. Instead of the overused post-apocalyptic scenario, Beatrice lives in a fairly peaceful city where society has been divided into factions based on personality and tendencies. A society that is threatened to be broken by conspiracy.

There are some clichés in the story – no book is free of them – such as training and falling in love with basically the first guy she meets (although in the writer’s defense, she doesn’t fall for him right away). However, I don’t like to pick at clichés in stories if the story itself is true and the characters are likable, which they were.

In short, I really enjoyed this book! I was entertained from beginning to end and immediately ordered the other two in the trilogy. I will avoid the other movies for now (which I never saw advertised or talked about; are they relatively unknown?) so nothing is spoiled, but I’m very much looking forward to the rest of Tris’s story. I’m awarding this book four stars out of five, but it’s more like 4.5/5.

4stars

Get Divergent on Amazon US
Get Divergent on Amazon UK

A Bard’s Lament (Part 6)

Read part 1
Read part 2
Read part 3
Read part 4
Read part 5

Part 6

The afternoon and evening passed in a haze, and Ella made several mistakes in her songs that night because her fingers shook so much. Not that anyone seemed to notice; the tavern was so packed that the chatter drowned out most of her music anyway.

When Ella hurried home and bolted the door behind her, she jumped when she heard a muffled sniffle. She hurried to light the lantern near the door as a shape in the shadows moved.

“It’s me,” squeaked a voice.

“Lu?” Ella fell beside her sister, who lay crumpled on the floor. Lucinda hugged herself, her ragged dress torn at the shoulders. “What happened?”

Lucinda’s makeup ran down her cheeks, the crimson on her lips smudged.

“He… he said a whore like me didn’t deserve to be paid,” she sniffled. Ella set down the lantern and wrapped her arms around her sister’s shoulders, holding her as she sobbed. Ella didn’t need to ask who had said it.

“Ma never wanted this for us,” Ella whispered, rocking Lucinda back and forth as if she were a child.

Lucinda scoffed, blowing wet air onto Ella’s arm. “Ma was this.”
“Exactly.” Ella pressed her forehead against her sister’s. “Exactly, Lu. Ma was this. She didn’t see any other way after Pa died. It was the only way we could keep this house, remember?”

Lucinda gave a quivering sigh in response.

“I promised myself that no matter what, I’d never be like her. Ever. It’ll be over soon, Lu. I’ve been saving up. You won’t have to do this anymore.”

Lucinda’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “You were always the well-behaved one,” she wailed. She fiddled with the signet ring on her finger. “Sell this,” she suggested, sniffling.

“No way,” Ella scoffed. “It’s Ma’s. We aren’t selling it.”

Lucinda seemed too tired to argue, and brought the ringed finger to her chest, closing her other hand protectively over it. “I miss her.” She gave a long, rattling sigh.

“I miss her too,” Ella felt her own eyes burn as she watched their merged shadow rock back and forth on the floorboards.

Two days later, Lucinda was gone.

Part 7