Chapter 19 #2
I pinched my brow, setting the cup back down on the bedside table. I was used to Meeka giving me cinderleaf out of the kindness of her heart, but I’d never had someone stab another for my wellbeing. If I was being honest, I was flattered. “Thank you.”
Abby grinned, walking across the room with a bowl in hand. She handed it to me, which I hesitantly accepted. “It’s better than you think,” she said before winking.
I offered her a weak smile before looking at the contents in the bowl. It was some sort of stew, and it smelled quite pleasant. The spoon felt heavy in my hand, the waning signs of exhaustion still coursing through my body.
“I promise it won’t poison you,” Abby said, as she fetched a bowl for herself.
I lifted the spoon to my lips, and even though it still didn’t taste like food from The Grey, it was nicer than anything I’d put in my mouth since coming to Oscuro.
“How do you make it taste edible?” I asked before swallowing another mouthful.
Abby had seated herself on a plush, crimson armchair. “I learned to grow the vegetables myself.”
I frowned slightly, turning the spoon in my hand. “That doesn’t make sense. Everything here tastes . . . wrong.”
Abby’s lips curved, just a little. “That’s because most people don’t bother with the soil.
They take from it until there’s nothing left to give.
” She shifted in her chair, resting her bowl against her knee.
“I started composting scraps. Rot, peelings, anything I could get my hands on. Gave something back to the earth instead of just taking.”
“And it worked?” I asked, glancing down at the stew like it might hold answers.
“It took time,” she said. “Longer than I care to admit. But eventually . . . things started growing better. Tasting better.” She shrugged lightly. “Never told anyone. People here don’t care for patience.”
I swallowed another mouthful, slower this time. Thinking.
A small patch of land. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere no one owned me. I could grow my own food. Save my coins. Leave this place behind for good.
The thought felt fragile. Yet it was the only sliver of hope I allowed myself.
As I ate, I sat in silence. Abby did the same, but for the first time in a long time I wasn’t afraid, even though I was in the house of someone I just met. The last mouthful of warm stew filled me to the brim. I placed the bowl on the bed beside me and flicked my gaze to Abby.
It felt too awkward not to ask her questions. I shoved my fear down as far as it would go and open my mouth. “What do you do for work?”
She glanced around the room, poking her spoon in the direction of the artwork on the walls.
“I’m a tattoo artist. I take clients through a room over there.
I used to ink the prince of Oscuro until he found himself a saviour and hightailed it out of here.
” She faintly smiled. “Don’t blame him. I would have too if someone had come for me. ”
My chest ached at her words. I too knew how she felt. No one was coming for me here. Not anymore.
I picked at the blanket. “How long have you been here?”
“I’ve lost count of the years,” she murmured. “Long enough to know that the stench never really leaves your clothes.”
Her words didn’t surprise me. It’s not like The Grey was much different than Oscuro. Not for me, anyway. I doubted anyone would even give my body a proper burial. There was no one to leave flowers on my grave.
Meeka would have. If she was alive.
“You could have just left me there,” I murmured.
Abby shrugged lightly, still chewing her food. “Could’ve, but I didn’t.”
“Why?” I asked, utterly confused. “You don’t even know me.”
The words crushed me more once I spoke them out loud. All my life it had been “fight or be taken advantage of.” And here, in this light forsaken place, was someone showing me a morsel of kindness.
Abby cleared her throat, placing her empty bowl down on the floor. “I’m tired of this city sucking the light out of anyone who might have some shine left.”
I scoffed before I could stop myself. “Obviously, you rescued the wrong person then.”
Abby’s head angled to the side, a frown on her lips. “Not at all.”
My brow furrowed. “If you’re wanting money, I don’t have any.”
I had a handful of coins that were stashed under the mattress in my room back at The Painted Lady. I could offer her a few, perhaps, but I needed them to keep me alive.
Abby shifted her weight in the chair. “If I wanted coin, I would have chopped off all your glorious blue hair and sold it on the dark market. I just hate this place . . . what it does to people. It drains them. Turns light into darkness. You looked like someone who needed a hand before it did the same to you.”
I swallowed down her words, struggling to digest them. I shook my head. “I don’t have any light.” The words came out softer than I intended.
Abby’s big, green eyes soften with her smile. “Yes, you do.”
Hot tears welled in the corner of my eyes, but I brushed them away.
I didn’t understand her kindness. Yet she had not been the first to see a light in me that I knew for certain had extinguished long ago.
My thoughts turned to the letters I’d received in The Grey.
Was it possible that there was someone watching over me? Trying to tell me something?
The notes always spoke of light and darkness, but here I was, in the darkest place of all. My hand twitched under the knitted blanket; I didn't even know how to respond to her.
Abby rose from the chair, gathered her bowl, and glided across the room to reach for mine. She paused, bowls in hand. “You can stay here as long as you need. I’ve got the space, and don’t worry, I won’t be kicking you out when the sun comes up.”
After she placed the dishes in the sink, she headed for a door on the other side of the room.
“Abby—” I called.
She paused, glancing over her shoulder.
“I’m just not used to people being nice here for no reason,” I managed to say.
She offered me a lopsided grin. “I get it. I’ve been here a long time. But just know, I’m not like most people.”
I nodded once, my voice low. “Thank you.”
She smiled faintly. “Get some sleep. You’re safe here.” Her door clicked shut behind her.
I settled back, the bed creaking softly. For once in my life I welcomed the silence. No one was coming for me, and I didn’t feel like I had to keep one eye on the door. A sense of peace washed over me then, lulling my eyes into a deep, all-consuming slumber.