Madame

Chapter 20

Karina's POV

We both stayed silent the whole car ride home. She wouldn't glance at me and I didn't dare look at her. I'm so fucking embarrased that I lost my cool like that... fuck me what was I doing? Like if Andrew's existence didn't piss me off enough now he really knows how to get me riled up.

That look on his face like he knew everyone was one of my secrets. That smug 'hah, got ya' look in his eyes when he mentioned my sad excuse of a father. I totally forgot about Elizabeth's being in the room until she actually grabbed me, he had gotten me so angry that I was solely focused on him. Did I even hit him enough to make him confess to what he was doing? I doubt it. When Elizabeth pulled me up he was still smiling like he had won. She pulled me back too early.

"You'll have lunch with us." She says, her eyes on the road and her hand gripping the top of the steering wheel. I lick my bottom lip, repulsed by the thought of being around people any longer, "No, thank you."

Her hand squeezes the steering wheel harder, causing the veins on her hands to become more prominent, "That was not a question. You will eat lunch with us when we get home." Her voice is still cold. Her duality makes my head spin.

"I'm not hungry. I wouldn't want to make the other's at the table uncomfortable." I say, crossing my legs in a defensive manner. She looks over at me briefly, our eyes meeting for the first time in about 2 hours, "Do you plan on sulking the whole time?" Is she being for real right now or is she mocking me?

"No, I just don't want to make them feel uncomfortable with the fact that I'm not eating. I don't want to insult whoever is making lunch either." I strike back, my tone a bit more aggressive as she slightly shakes her head.

"I'm not going to allow you to get into your own head. Being closed up in your room will make you do just that. So you're going to at least sit with us. Anyways, I'm making lunch so I don't care whether you eat or not, I just need you present. Am I clear?" She turns her whole head this time, her grey eyes digging into my hazel ones.

The temptation to talk back is quite strong, but I've lost control of my tongue a few too many times this morning so I decided to give a small nod which seemed to satisfy her.

My eyes naturally travel to the scenery that passes us outside the window. The mountain ranges in the distance seem like small hills but in reality they are thousands of metres tall, taking hours and hours to hike.

I used to regularly go with my uncle, mother, grandmother, aunt, and brother to a small village in the high mountains called Ceillac, very close to the Italian border. At the time I was young, I didn't know why we owned a chalet there and I never asked why big strong men came with us while we travelled there. I just enjoyed hiking the mountains, arriving at the beautiful lakes with horses that fed on the banks of it. Minding their business as we walked past, hiking further up to the small house at the very top where we'd make sandwiches and eat fresh fruit and cheese.

I miss that. Being normal. Not having to worry about anything but having fun and eating as much as I could and whether or not running down the mountain was a good idea. The uncertainty of whether I'd be sent to a different country with little to know information was a fear I only learned as a tween.

"I'm going to make that cucumber and beet salad you made a while back." Her voice brushes my thoughts out of my head. It was her nice voice, the voice I could listen to all day, "Ok." I shrug

"I was thinking I could also pan-fry some chicken, or I could open a few cans of sardines. I was thinking the mustard kind, you like that one, right?" She glances over at me. How does she know that? "Yeah, that sounds good actually." I admit, the thought of that delicious taste on my tongue rouses my hunger from the pit of my stomach.