The Necromancer's Daughter

|| six ||

"Who are you?"  

"I-" Rebecca stammered. She held her hands together and fidgeted with her fingers. "I'm not sure." was what came out of her mouth.

"What do you mean?" Lucille gave her a bewildered look.

"I mean I don't know exactly who I am. I think I'm Rebecca." Rebecca's voice shook as she answered.

Lucille drew a deep breath, sympathizing with the girl's anxiety. She had learned long ago that in complicated times like this, it was always best to trust her gut, and now her instincts were telling her this girl was speaking the truth. "Okay. Well, since I know for sure you're not evil, and you're not here to kill me, why don't you take a seat?" She offered her a small smile.

Slowly, Rebecca picked up the plastic chair from the floor, upturned when she panicked a while ago, and sat. She kept her eyes on Lucille, still afraid of her and her powers which Rebecca still cannot seem to comprehend. Lucille raised her hands to her forehead and massaged her temples. She also didn't know what the hell was going on here.

"I'm sorry, I guess..." Lucille said after a while, but she didn't know what to say next. She raised her gaze back to the girl, to ask her something, anything, to help her know where to look for answers at least, and saw Rebecca was now looking at the food in front of her. Lucille regarded how hungry she must be.

"Um, go ahead and help yourself." Again she smiled. Rebecca returned it with a reluctant nod of gratitude and gingerly filled her plate with a small serving. "You can have it all. I'm not hungry anymore." Lucille told her, in a ruder tone than she meant, but decided not to take it back.

"I'm sorry. I - I know I shouldn't be here-"

 "No, I didn't mean it like that. Just eat, alright? You look famished." Lucille simply said.

Rebecca nodded and took her first spoonful of scrambled eggs. It was sensational. There might've been a bit of garlic, a dash of salt and some other ingredient, a rare spice perhaps, that made a simple breakfast staple taste like something from a gourmet cook book.  It didn't take another clairvoyant vision for her to know that Lucille was excellent in the kitchen. Had she known this was her first food in two years, she would've said something to compliment Lucille. She didn't need to, however, because Lucille saw how much she liked the food just by looking at her satisfied expression as she put spoonful after spoonful of her simple dish. For a moment, they both forgot the situation they're in. They just absorbed the now, the present moment where Rebecca enjoyed a hearty breakfast, and Lucille felt nice to have someone else to cook for other than herself.

Noticing the girl wasn't touching what was left of the juice, probably afraid of what it might do to her again, she replaced it with a pitcher of cold drinking water from the fridge and assured her it wasn't hexed.  After finishing her first serving, Lucille threw caution to the wind and just proceeded to ask. "Are you sure you're not Lilian?"

The girl stopped mid-chew. She stared at the woman, trying to guess if this was another test, another trick question, but Lucille's face spoke only of the longing she had for her daughter. That much Rebecca understood.

"This will sound crazy, but I really think I'm not Lilian." 

When no reply came from Lucille, she added, "I mean, my memories are hazy. I don't remember anything from before last night. But I know I'm Rebecca..."

Lucille put her both her hands on the table, palms down. Her intuition still tells her the girl is being honest, but a part of her still held her guards up. Is she really not Lilian? What if the Necromancer altered Lilian's mind? What else did he do to my daughter?

Then she remembered the spectral did show an image of another girl, not Lilian. Was that this Rebecca she's talking about? How does she know for sure?