Page 34 of The Last Feast
Worse—why do my feelings not change, even if it was true?
“No, they’re not.” I rub her back to warm her. “They don’t have any siblings.”
I pick her up and take her into the bathroom in case my father decides to look for me. She doesn’t relax when I lock the door, instead looking up with so much fear in her eyes. It may as well be a punch to the gut as she asks, “You belong to them?”
“No. I belong to you. What happened?”
She shakes her head as I sit her on the sink and run the water to clean the blood from her face. It’s not splattered on her cheeks like it was with Odette. The deep stains look old, and they’re centered around her mouth. It even coats her teeth, and she shyly whispers, “I was hungry.”
“Okay. It’s okay.”
It’s not. She ate human flesh. She could get sick or die from it, depending on its stage of decay. I try to counteract it as I cup water in my hand for her to drink.
But she pushes me away, glaring. “How do you know them?”
“They’re my parents,” I admit, as if it’s a crime.
She looks at me with pure hate. It’s not the same murderous glare she had while we were killing Odette—that was more exploratory excitement. This is rage. Wrapping her hands around my neck, she grits, “Don’t lie to me. I’ve been here for years, so I’d know if you were here.”
“I went to boarding school. I’m not lying to you, Hana.”
They chose to ignore my existence so they could keep a young girl as what? Their slave?
She doesn’t trust me, but she doesn’t stop me from helping her get cleaned up. I don’t even attempt to touch any more of her body than necessary. She has a right to hate me when I hate myself by association too.
20
TOMORROW
Hana thinks about all the things she had to do in order to line the pockets of Martha and Erik. Those things paid for Auguste to be safe in a boarding school far away like the other wealthy children. So, she attempts to explain it, to prove they’ve always had a bond.
“I paid for your school.”
But he spits out, “No. My trust paid for everything. I didn’t take their dirty money, and they’re never going to get close to you again.”
“Jamie?” she whispers as she holds his sides. “I think I want to find out.”
The conversation they had has kept her company in the week she was trapped with nothing to eat other than the flesh of the woman who would pin her down so Erik could do what he wanted. So even though she wants to know Auguste, she downplays her hope in fear he’s changed his mind now that he’s truly seen her.
“Find out?” he asks, barely managing to recall the insanity of everything that’s happened.
“Yeah, find out what this is.” She slowly swings her pink-tinged finger between their chests.
His smile begins slow until it takes over his face, and he breathes out in relief, “Thank fuck.” He desperately holds her face in both hands. “I’ve been looking for you. I thought you wouldn’t come back to me.”
She just nods.
He gently lifts her into his arms before carrying her out of the bathroom. No sounds come from the open basement door, but he pauses as he reaches the top of the stairs to peer around the wall, checking his father is nowhere in sight.
The house is empty, so he slowly steps out from the basement with his lips firmly planted on Hana’s temple. As they reach the living room, the back door slides open. Hana has never believed in discretion. She definitely doesn’t now that she’s found someone to anchor her strength to, so she lifts her head from Auguste’s shoulder to look at Erik. He shaved while she’s been locked away, and he’s wearing clean clothes, unlike her blood-soaked ones.
Baring her teeth, she declares, “I ate your wife.”
The first time they locked her in the cellar, they didn’t have the metal box closing her in, and she clawed at the stone walls, leaving behind proof of her existence. They underestimated her will to survive, so when they found her shivering in the corner with dead, bloody mice around her, they called her every vile word in their vocabulary.
And now, Erik watches as his son, who he’s promised to the handlers when Auguste completes his medical training, attempts to leave with the woman they need. The Aigner name doesn’t mean to own because of land like people assume, they own innocence to sell it as they see fit.
The only Aigner child can’t turn his back on his legacy, or they’ll lose their wealth. It will become dust. The generationsof building a relationship with the handlers will amount to nothing.
