I swallow hard before nodding. He’s threatening me, but to him, it’s not a threat, it’s a fact. A rule. He’s telling me the consequences if I do this again. It may not be fair, but I did come to a place where I don’t belong with the intent of violating his privacy. In doing so, apparently I signed away any future autonomy here. If I come back, I’m consenting to having sex with all three of them. That’s what it means.
“Is that clear?” he asks, watching me expectantly.
“Crystal,” I grit out.
He stares at me a long moment, something funny flickering across his face, and then he turns and walks away. I remember, too late, that his dead sister was named Crystal.
*
Crystal (#391)
She said my sister’s name.
No one has dared
Speak her name to me
For over a year.
A year of silent penance
For a crime they won’t admit
That I could commit
Though I did.
She said my sister’s name,
Dropped it so casually
You wouldn’t know she was
A casualty.
I told her she was dead to me
And then she was.
Where do you draw the line
Between a murder and a prophecy?
She said my sister’s name
Clear as day,
—As diamond—
As if it weren’t precious
But ordinary.
As if she believed I could bear
The pain of hearing it
As if she didn’t see me