Page 5 of Bones of Revenge and Reckoning

“I hate you,” I say.

“That’s a sin,” he replies. “Now, go play with your dollies like a good girl.”

He makes a rude gesture at me that we’re not allowed to make and walks out of the room. Five minutes later I hear the door open, and I look out my window to see Nico riding his shiny new bike.

The pressure is so intense, I think my head will explode.

I wander out of my room and find myself in Mamma’s dressing room. I look at all her things, all so pretty and shiny, like she is, and I want to hurt them. I can’t. If I hurt Mamma’s clothes, Babbo will definitely take his belt to me.

Mamma always says I’m his favorite because he doesn’t spank me the way he does Nico, and he also sometimes sits me on his lap. I don’t care. I want to be Mamma’s favorite, but she loves Nico the most.

Mamma with her perfect face, and her clothes, and shiny things. Mamma always gets what she wants. Always. Today she got the green stone. I hate her.

Hate.

On her dresser are all her paints and potions, the ones she smears on her face. With a roar of rage, I pick up her hairbrush and start to smash them. The boxes crack, the bottles burst, and the colors splash about, dust covering the dresser and some even getting on the cream carpet.

Satisfied that I’ve ruined all her pretty things, I return to my room. The pressure is gone.

I fall asleep on the bed, the day grey and sad now. I have no interest in my doll, and I just want Christmas to be over.

The shaking wakes me. Is there an earthquake?

“Wake up.”

I open my eyes to see Mamma shaking me. She’s being so rough my teeth rattle.

“You vicious little witch,” she hisses.

I’m confused, and then I remember with a sick lurch. Her paints. I smashed them. It felt good at the time, but now I feel awful.

“I’m sorry, Mamma,” I say. I mean it too.

“You’re evil, Renata.”

Those words send a chill down my spine. Evil is very bad. It’s a strong word, and the priests say it is the worst thing. I can’t be evil. I’m a child. Children aren’t evil. The nuns said so.

“I’m not evil, Mamma.” I shake my head.

“Yes, you are. You smashed it all up and ruined our carpet. I’ve cleaned it so that Babbo doesn’t see it. God knows he’d somehow blame Nico, and your poor brother would bear the brunt. There is something wrong inside you, Renata.” Her eyes are shiny with tears. “I think the devil touched you. My own child.”

She crosses herself, and my eyes widen in terror. The devil has been near me? Touched me? Does he come at night?

I’m so scared all my skin goes cold and prickly.

“Mark my words, I am going to get you out of this house.”

She turns and stalks to the door.

“Mamma, stop,” I cry out. “Where would I go?”

“You’ll go away. To school. A place where bad girls go to board and be taught how to behave. It will be for the best all around.”

Mamma doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean. Not like this. It is no idle threat.

She sighs. “It will do you good.”

That’s when I know she’s very serious.

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