Color Me Crimson | 𝘙𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘝𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦

9͢

As the evening crowd dies down and only a few groups remain in the dining room, I purposely carry as many plates as I can over to Kristi and begin to wash them at her side. She doesn't initiate any conversation, though her soft hums drift over the rush of water. I can tell she's concentrating or thinking about something else, so for a while I let us both ease into routine.

"No one else is assigned to dish duty?" I ask after I've made it half way through my stack

Kristi shakes her head. Taking up a few dishes with her small hands, she sprays them off and water splashes around us. Her pace is admirable, fast and effective.

I try a different approach. "How long have you worked here?"

"Almost a year."

That's it, my first real answer. Nice and steady. I only need one bit of information at a time.

"How long have you known Hugh?" I purposely avoid using Lucien or Anne's name, since they seem to be the most hostile. To my relief Kristi doesn't seem as affected at the mention of Hugh.

"Same time—a year," she replies. I pick up on a slight accent in her voice, well masked, but it's there.

Steam from the sink rises and plasters strands of hair to the side of her face. She lifts another stack of plates from the sink and arranges them inside the industrial washing machine.

"Where are you from?" Soap bubbles form in the sink, multi-hued color swirling on their surface before they pop. I feel bad interrogating her, but there's no other options, and I've no ill intentions.

"Romania."

Okay. Now we're getting somewhere.

"Is that where you met Hugh?"

She sighs with a deep set frown. "Why do you ask so many questions? I told you it's no good."

"But why aren't questions allowed?" I've already decided I'm not leaving without hearing as much as I can. I don't want her to feel alone, like I did for too many years.

"My life is of no concern to you," she mumbles. Cheeks flushed from working, Kristi looks almost like a little doll, but her eyes don't shine. "You wanted this job, you got hired, now you work here. Same for me. Anne offered me a deal, and I took it."

"What was the deal?" I can't imagine what this place could offer her, what Anne would give worth this harsh treatment.

Kristi sets down the dish she's working on and turns to face me. "I will tell you one more time. There are some questions you don't want the answer to."

I give it one more try. "Then what about their eyes? I saw Lucien's change color when he drank the wine."

Kristi stares at me, the water still running in the background, but her expression doesn't translate into you're-bat-shit-crazy. No, it's that hint of sympathy again.

"You remembered, most don't." She turns back to the sink. Her face settles into its neutral state, but she doesn't dismiss me.

"How could I not remember someone's eyes turning red?" My voice becomes more animated, panic and confusion seeping out. How can I not remember the way he assessed my scars? How could I not question his offer of protection despite having just met me?

Kristi sighs and her posture falters. "I can see this will be harder for you than most. Try to forget. For most of us, the better we are at forgetting, the easier life will be."

"And what if I can't?"

"Then they will make you want to forget."

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