Page 6 of The Shape of my Scar
Who was she?
She didn’t feel like Faolan anymore—that girl was gone, like the dolls she used to play with. She didn’t trust anyone. Her eyes fell on the open book on the mattress with the picture of a girl and her little dog.
“Dorothy.”
A pause.
“Dorothy?”
She nodded and whispered, “Yes.”
Another beat of silence.
Then she asked, voice tentative and slightly hoarse from the long periods of not speaking, “What’s your name?”
There was a long pause. His eye disappeared for a second, then came back. This time, it was a different colour—bright, intense blue like a precious gem in the sunlight.
“Thane,” he said.
She blinked before she asked, “Why are your eyes different?”
She imagined him shrugging. “It’s a condition, my pa said. Heterochromia, it is called. Like my pa.”
“They’re like shiny marbles,” she said, and then looked down, shy.
He didn’t answer right away. He let out a soft sound before shifting into a more comfortable position. “How long have you been here?”
“Thirty-eight days.”
She heard it escape her lips like it wasn’t even her voice anymore. Every day felt one too long.
He was quiet for a moment. “I can’t see you clearly. Your room’s dark.”
“I don’t want you to see me,” she muttered after a moment.
He didn’t ask why, but he seemed to understand.
“I look weird,” she whispered. “I don’t want anyone to see.”
Silence.
“How long have I been here?” he echoed thoughtfully. “I am not sure. I think…four months.”
Her breath wheezed through her teeth. “That long?”
“Zel’s been here six months,” he added. “Maro…maybe eight.”
Another boy grumbled, “Eight months and seven days.”
“Lirian… They just took him out. He’d been here almost a year.”
Neither of them said anything else for a while.
The silence was heavy with things they didn’t say.
Then, carefully, he asked, “How old are you?”
“Nine,” she said.
