Wander Dust - Book 1

Chapter 10 - The Truth

Mona’s eyes meet mine. She sighs, but doesn’t answer my question right away.

“Feeling okay?” she asks, her face weary.

“Headache,” I mumble.

“Let’s get you an aspirin and some liquids.”

Still in a daze, I can’t argue. She hoists me to my feet. I lean on her for balance as she guides me to the kitchen. She lowers me onto a couch, then fluffs a pillow and props it behind my head.

She leaves to drift around the kitchen, but remains silent as she riffles through the cabinets for pills and a glass for water. With the two in her hand, she returns to my side with a look I can’t place. Pity. Pride. I’m not sure which.

I toss the aspirin on my tongue and chug the freezing water. At first, it shocks my system, but it warms as it fills my empty belly. My stomach gurgles.

“Hungry?” she asks, stroking my aching forehead.

“A little.”

She jumps up and runs to inspect the pantry and refrigerator. She’s in no rush to supply answers, which I’m okay with for the moment. I lean back onto the pillow, allowing my body to relax.

The weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. No, bigger—the weight of the universe. Maybe because to some degree, my secret is finally out? Maybe because my secret is possibly Mona’s secret, as well? And maybe, most importantly, because it’s proof that I’m not going insane. Mona saw what Terease did to me, and that fact makes it real. The Lady in Black is real.

Mona returns with a plate arranged with a hodgepodge of finger foods. She doesn’t actually cook—ever. I think it’s because she never has had anyone to take care of…no kids, no husband. When I ask her about her unusual love of appetizers, she merely claims, “The most delicious flavors are the simplest ones.” And then again with some thought, “Cooking takes too long. I’d rather read or attend to my arts and crafts.” She laughs very loudly at herself.

A medley of roasted peppers, olives, crostini bread, mozzarella, and tomatoes sit on the hand-painted dish. Italian seems to be the theme tonight.

“Isn’t this plate lovely? I bought it in Sicily on one of my painting excursions.”

“Love-ly, dar-ling,” I say, mimicking her rich, sophisticated voice and flinging my hand in the air.

“Oh, stop it, Seraphina.” She lightly smacks my arm. “Feeling well enough to make fun of me?”

“Yeah. I guess. I’m just glad she’s gone.” The word “she” hangs in the air as we both remember the tense encounter.

Mona clears her throat. “Yes, well, I’m very sorry about that. I very much wanted to tell you everything, but it’s forbidden.”

I stop chewing and stare, eyes wide. “You can’t tell me anything?” The words escape in a squeak. “You’re kidding—right?” The thought of still not having any answers leaves a dry lump in my throat.

“I mean, before. Before we knew whether you had wandered or not. I would have been forbidden from discussing it with you. It’s the one rule I disagree with. I believe guardians should be able to tell their children, so they know that change may be coming. And when and if it does, they can embrace it, instead of being scared.”

“I’m not scared,” I correct her abruptly.

“No, of course you’re not.” She looks as though she isn’t buying it. “I just mean that it really makes for a stressful beginning when a young person first experiences their gifts. I remember,” she pauses, looking at her hands twisting in her lap, “I thought I was going nutter.” Then she smiles. “But enough of that. You have wandered, haven’t you?” Her eyes search mine.