Evelyn Disgrace

Chapter Fifteen - The Present

There's nothing left to say. No more tears to shed. Nobody to console me. All I feel is an endless sea of terrible numbness. With terrible undercurrents of pain.

Why did it all have to come to this? Why does it feel like the entire world is against me? Why does the creator of this universe have to be so cruel to a girl who just had hope? A girl who wanted love and had hope.

I'd met Old Hancock in Madam Vouir's tavern. He was gruff and challenged me to Khalician Dice. I accepted, and in the end lost. Then we continued to play. And finally got drinks. Then I met his wife, Lady Hancock. Then his grandchildren. His family.

That's all Old Hancock wanted. He simply wanted to provide for his family, and that's all he cared about. His family. Whether by blood or friendship. Family was most important to him.

That old man slaved away in durgated oil factories just so he could make the rent. Just so he could keep his family safe, and not have to move them all to the streets. So, why did this man deserve to die with his entire family? Because even his family, the most sacred thing to him, had to die with Old Hancock. He couldn't protect them. What were his thoughts in those last moments as he scrambled to get his wife and children to safety? What were his fears and his hopes? Did he have hope at all? Did he hope that even little Alice Hancock would survive?

Well, he was wrong. Alice Hancock is dead, with all the rest of them. Because that's how the world works. Death comes and steals away the most precious. Maybe it's a mercy; maybe it's a curse. Is Old Hancock safe in a haven that will protect him and his family? Or did the universe decide to punish them for being so low in society and send them to hell?

I don't know. All I know is that Old Hancock's story deserves to be in the stars. Mine? I'm unsure if I truly want Jeremy's intertwined tale to be hung as a tapestry for all to see. I don't want to be seen in that light.

It makes me want to hide in the shadows.

~

"Will you be joining us?" Aster's voice is cool, but threaded with a terse impatience that scalds my emotions. "You haven't eaten with everyone in three days."

Waves of anger crash through my chest. I want to be alone. I don't want Aster here, and I don't want to go down for dinner. Why does this young man have to be so impatient? Why does the world force on to hurry up after loss? Is Aster a society man, too? Does he expect me not to care?

Or perhaps it's because Aster Wilmick is apparently incapable of affection. Of caring for people. Or else he's simply cruel for hiding it.

I bite my lip. "I don't think you need my presence, so I won't be joining you." The words come out like an icicle posing as a sword. Sometimes I wish everyone would stop caring and leave me alone. I just want to be alone.

Aster sighs, the impatience weaving further into his breath. He leans against the door arch. "Are you going to mope for the rest of your life?"

I rise up from my bed in rage. "Oh, shut it! You don't care a durgated current about me. Why does my presence at your dinner matter? I can surely say that you don't care about anyone. You're incapable of caring, Mr. Wilmick. Is this true?"

Aster's face is twisted with confusion and vile anger, with hints of regret laced throughout his eyes. But he has no right to be angry. He has no right to be offended. He has no right to summon me or give me orders or even to care about me. Because Aster Wilmick can't care. He proved that already.

His breath is heavy, as if the man is reining back some terrible force of rage. I can see the pulsing sway of his chest as he attempts to control his breathing. I notice the way he clutches his hands, as if he's trying not to grab my throat and choke me. Aster swallows.