“I wanted to call you, but they wouldn’t let me. Mom took my phone,” she starts, that smile morphing into a frown as tears spring from her eyes. “I wanted to tell you about Dad.”
“Shh.” I pull her in for another hug. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re not to blame. I’m here now.” I want to reassure her somehow, but I don’t know what my presence here will do for her.
We separate again, and I tuck a strand of hair back into a hairpin. The nuns won’t excuse a hair out of place, even considering the situation.
“Are you okay?” I ask, looking her over. Given how Abel’s been with me, I want to be sure he hasn’t raised a hand to her.
“I’m scared for Dad. Mom and Abel won’t tell me anything. I can go see him after school today, though.”
“Abel’s taking me to see him this morning, and I’ll talk to the doctors. I’ll find out what’s going on and tell you. I promise.”
She nods, wipes her tears. “Ivy?” she asks hesitantly
“Yes?”
“Is it true? You’ll have to marry that man?”
I don’t know how to answer her.
“I’ve heard rumors, Ivy. He’s deformed. A monster.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Everyone knows about the explosion. Everyone knows he’s hardly been seen in public since.”
I know that much too.
“You can’t do it. You have to find some way to get out of it.”
“It’s not as simple—”
“Evangeline!”
I exhale in relief at my mother’s interruption because I’ve heard the same rumors. I know about the explosion where so many sons of The Society were lost. Where Santiago’s own father and brother perished.
And although Santiago did survive, he didn’t quite walk away uninjured. There are rumors about what happened to him and what he did to cover up his scars. Talk of how hard he’s become, how bitter.
I remember my brief first encounter with him took place in my dad’s study. I’d given him the gift dad had bought him, and as I’d dumped the box on his lap, I'd told him what I’d thought of him. I’d been just mad enough about everything to blurt out the truth, that I didn’t like the school The Society made me go to because I knew it was him or his family who’d arranged for it as a thank-you gift to my father for tutoring Santiago. And I hadn’t stopped there. I told him I didn’t like him, either.
He’d just sort of smiled. I guess I remember because of my dad’s reaction. He’d gotten angry with me. Told me I was being disrespectful. But I’d gotten the feeling Santiago had found it almost funny.
The truth was, I’d been jealous of him even though I didn’t even know him. I’d been jealous because he’d had my father’s affection.
Would I truly be forced to marry this stranger now? This deformed monster they only whisper about?
I shake my head, clearing the thought. One thing at a time. First, I need to see my father with my own eyes. I think about how Dad was supposed to go to that meeting, too. He’d gotten sick at the last minute, though.
“Evangeline, goddammit! Get down here!”
My sister stiffens at the sound of our mother’s voice.
“You’re going to miss your bus, and I can’t drive you to school today.”
Eva turns to me. “I’m sure she has a very important hair or nail appointment. Or maybe she’s having her face lifted,” she whispers. “Again.”
We giggle, but it’s strained.
“Evangeline!”
“I’d better go.” She moves toward the door, then doubles back, opens a drawer in her desk, and shoves an extra-large Snickers bar into her backpack. “Breakfast will make me fat, according to Mom.”
“You don’t get breakfast?” Evangeline is like a twig already.
She shrugs her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m more worried about Dad and you than breakfast.” She hugs me again. “I love you, sis. I’m glad you’re here even though I know you don’t want to be. I’m glad to have you close again.”
For how long, though?
I follow her out the door and watch her fly down the stairs. Our mother stands at the front door with her arms folded disapprovingly. They don’t say goodbye as my sister rushes out the door just as the bus turns onto our street.
My mother closes the front door, and Abel walks out of my father’s study, holding his phone to his ear. Has he taken over Dad’s office already? He meets my gaze and checks his watch, then disconnects the call.
“I told you to wear a dress,” he says as I descend to the first floor.
“I didn’t feel like it,” I tell him and turn toward the kitchen to get myself a cup of coffee.
“You’ll learn.”
I have my back to him so I can’t see his face, but something too self-assured in his tone gives me pause. But then my mother walks into the kitchen, and I turn my attention to her.