Page 124 of Night's Fall
“Darling.”
I looked from my plate to him and got into the tough stuff.
“The wrist thing, she was just being rough with me.Impatient.Itwasn’t good it happened, but it was an accident.Shewas actually kinda horrified she did it, though she was more horrified what people would think about it than upset at the fact she broke her child’s bone.Theribs.Well, that was something else.Truly, he didn’t often get physical.Mostlyit was an icy-coldness, disinterest.Buteven though the times were rare, it would get physical.Andthat time, with the ribs, obviously, it was really bad.”
“This seems very…”Hestruggled for a word for so long, he didn’t find one.
ButIhad it for him.
“Matter of fact.Likeyou were this morning, when we talked after our so-not-fun, inter-family mingling.”
“WhatI’mdealing with is a scar left from my family’s dynamic far less deep than what you have.”
I shook my head. “Itisn’t about comparing scars.Decidingwho had it worse.Doingthat diminishes the fact you didn’t have it that great either.”
“Agreed,” he returned. “Withthe caveat that not recognizing how much worse you had it is a form of diminishing how bad it was for you.Andthat can hinder finding effective ways of healing from it.”
He had me there.
“It was all you knew,”Istated. “Itwas allIknew.Theywere never affectionate.Theymostly were so wrapped up in their…whatever was wrong with them, they spent a lot of time stoking it, encouraging it to sour, fester, infect them deeper.Thephysical abuse didn’t last long,”Itold him hurriedly when it appeared he was getting annoyedIwas blowing all of this off. “Theytook me to an uncredited clinic for my wrist.Theones people go to so records won’t be filed.Ithink they did that becauseMomwas embarrassed.Whenthe ribs things happened, they took me to a hospital.Itwas flagged.Theygot a visit from theRVPB.Itwas then, that part ended.”
“TheRoyalVulnerablePersonsBureauvisited them?”
I nodded.
“And left you?”
I nodded again.
His mouth got tight.
Okay.
Finish it.
Fast.
“It started when she appeared.”
His expression cleared, almost as if he was excited, no,eagerto learn more about her.
“Your creature,” he said quietly.
I turned to him. “Ithink she’s beautiful.”
“I’m sure she is,” he murmured.
“She’s just not…normal.”
He tipped his head to the side with open curiosity. “Doyou have a pic of her?”
I swallowed but didn’t answer him.
BecauseIdid.Several.
ButI’dburied them in a folder in myPalm, thinking one dayI’dbe gladIhadn’t deleted them, but not about to run across one so soon afterIthoughtI’dlost her.
“Did they ever talk to you, at all, about what makes mates,mates?” he asked.
