Chapter 9
Marina was the one who drew Mom and Jonas to the edge of the crowd, and according to Uncle Richard, she pulled them away unnecessarily.
The patient they’d gone to see didn’t have the Vex.
But Marina couldn’t possibly have been the one who killed my mother.
While she’d taken great pleasure in bullying me, that was a far cry from stabbing someone.
I still intend to ask her what made her think someone was in need of medical care.
I climb the stairs and enter the second-floor bedroom I used to share with Gran.
It looks so childish now, with my A+ homework pinned above the headboard and a dried daisy chain hung over a bedpost. The girl who slept here had no idea how terrible her life was about to become.
Sadness claws at my throat as I rip off my wedding dress.
I’d like to burn it. Instead, I hang it near the window to air out.
Our marriage garments are the only clothes we’re allowed to sew ourselves, from stitch to seam.
My labor can be traded for something my family needs.
My prior family, that is.
I walk to the pitcher and bowl I set out yesterday to wash up after Gryphon and I made the ceremonial walk.
I use it to clean myself as best I can, wiping off grime and dried tears.
Then I open my pre-packed suitcase. It contains a cloak, two shirts, two pairs of trousers, five sets of underclothes, one set of pajamas, my only other pair of shoes, and a small cache of the medicine I’m going to have to figure out how to keep sneaking to the elderly.
I slip into clean underclothes and then my soft, buff-colored trousers and overshirt.
I nearly cry when I trade my beaded shoes for soft goat’s leather slippers.
My thoughts whirl as I dress. Marina, with her glossy blond hair and full lips leading my mother and twin to their deaths right before my wedding, either intentionally or not.
Augustus here, in the Apothecary cottage.
Gran, asking me about Reatha. Why, why, why?
But there’re no answers in this room. I brush my hair and wind it into two buns, then I fasten my cloak, snap my suitcase closed, and step into the hallway, remembering at the last second that Lucky Bunny is still in the pocket of my wedding dress.
I’m turning to get him when a hushed conversation at the base of the stairs catches my attention.
I pause, my fingers grazing the wood of the railing. Aunt Florence’s voice, sharp with worry, reaches me. “I can’t believe he went through with it.”
Uncle Richard exhales, a tight sound. “If he suspects we know…”
What comes after is too quiet for me to hear.
I can’t help but think of my aunt and uncle turning their backs on Jonas yesterday.
I want to believe they’re separate from that action, that pure hearts can abandon someone so completely and still remain decent.
The two of them have always sided with the community; Jonas’s Harvest was simply no exception.
Good citizens of the Valley don’t disrupt hard-packed soil. That’s all it was.
Aunt Florence is speaking again, this time loud enough to reach me on the landing. “We can’t hide for much long—”
I shift my weight, and the floorboard groans beneath me. Their voices stop. Then Uncle Richard says, “Rosie?”
I tiptoe back into my old bedroom, uncertain why I don’t just answer him. What did I overhear? Those two are the straightest of arrows. They were likely whispering about a patient. In the room, I return to my wedding dress and rescue the precious wooden rabbit.
“Sorry I almost left you behind, Lucky Bunny,” I whisper, kissing his nose.
I tuck him into my pants pocket and, on impulse, dash into Jonas’s room.
I inhale the peppermint scent of him, touch the clothes he’ll never wear again.
It’s too much. I close his door behind me and dart downstairs, my heart cast in lead.
Aunt Florence and Uncle Richard are standing near the kitchen table, still talking, their voices low and gestures agitated.
Gran is seated by the fire, where I left her.
Her eyes are closed, but she clutches her mug of honeyed water.
“I’m going home now.” I try to keep my voice light, though the word “home” is a slimy rock sliding down my throat. “See you all at chapel?”
Aunt Florence and Uncle Richard smile back, but it’s strained. Gran’s eyes remain shut. I realize she’s humming a lullaby she used to sing to Jonas and me.
I begin humming it, too, unable to remember the words, and then I surprise myself with an announcement. “I’m going to leave through the lab,” I say. “Grab a few things for the Tzu family.”