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VIII: Corvus Oculum Corvi Non Eruit
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30th November / 1995
Mykonos was a pretty place. Reese had watched the scenery rush by, leaning her head against the window of the car. All blues and greens and ochres; white buildings and cobblestoned streets. She had a feeling they were taking the scenic route on purpose — she hadn't exactly been cooperative.
Diane sat next to her in the backseat, content with looking out the window too, although she must have seen this a million times before. She spared Reese a few glances every now and then, as if to make sure she was still there.
Reese was being scrutinized.
She didn't bother keeping track of time, but after what must have been an eternity, Diane peered at her once more, words accompanying.
"How do you feel?" She asked. Neutral. Not cold. Not warm. Not hospitality. Not disdain. A precarious in-between Reese didn't have a word to describe at the time.
"Like my parents just died," Reese answered, voice scratchy. She sounded as wretched as she felt. It would be nice, she thought, to be able to speak like Diane. "How much longer before we get there? Wherever there is."
"Around half an hour," Diane said. "You'll like it. It's the best there is."
The best orphanage.
The best Raven Coven orphanage.
It was no ordinary place.
"My niece is there, too," Diane went on. "She's the same age as you. She'll be showing you around."
Reese didn't think orphanage was an accurate term for where Diane took her.
It was a pair of two huge stone towers, bordering a wide white cement building. The orphanage looked like it had been plucked right out of a fantasy world and placed here, on earth, simply to look at. To visit and tour, but never to live in. Never to call home.
