Needing the Impossible (A Clato Fanfic)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

It's the second day since I went hunting, and Mother seems to have completely bought into Cato's story. This is mostly due to the fact that she doesn't want to accept the truth. There's no way she actually believes we were at the facility that whole time, but she doesn't want to own up to what I am. I am a killer. I killed someone less than forty-eight hours ago. She won't admit that to herself. In her case, ignorance is bliss.

I find this somewhat pathetic, but whatever helps her sleep at night. I need her on my side for now. It actually turns out my mother is good for something other than fretting: these wounds won't heal themselves.

We're sitting down for dinner when Father announces they found a dead body at work the previous day. “Yesterday?” mother asks, surprised. “Why would you wait and tell us today?” I notice that she is glancing at me every other second, trying to scrutinize me without making eye contact.

“Guards are killed all the time, Alida. It wasn't that out of the ordinary. What they found today, though...” he trails off, trying to decide whether he should actually continue. “It was different.” My heart is beating abnormally fast. How will they react if they find out Cato and I are responsible? No doubt Father already suspects our involvement in the guard's murder. But what about Orsin? Surely they can't have found his body already. It was too far out.

“Different?” my mother pries, not willing to let the conversation die. I don't know why she's pushing this. She has to know what's coming, and she knows she won't like it. So why bother?

“They found Orsin-”

“The drunk?” my mother interjects. She would be the one to label him a drunk instead of a mass murderer.

Father nods, “They found his body today, out in the old part of the quarries.”

“That was fast,” I mutter under my breath. But they had stopped talking, something I wasn't counting on. I look up from my plate to see if they noticed the quiet comment. They had. Father is looking at me with a look of total disapproval. Why? He had to know already. Then I see my mother's face, and I know why Father disapproves. He knows how this is going to affect her.

Mother's face is one of complete shock. She doesn't seem to know what to make of what I've just said. As I continue to watch her, not breaking her gaze, her expression changes to a look of complete and total terror.

“Clove,” she gasps. I say nothing. What is there to say?

“What did you say?” my father prods.

“You heard me,” I answer willfully. “You both did.”

My mother lets out something that's a mix between a choke and a gasp. “Clove Valora!” she exclaims loudly. “How did you know about it?”

How strongly has she disillusioned herself? It's pathetically obvious at this point. I was there. I saw everything. I killed Orsin. “I was there,” I say defiantly, looking her straight in the eye. My mother says nothing for a moment, she just stares straight back at me.

“Did Cato kill him?” she asks quietly, but there's hysteria creeping into the edge of her voice.

“No, Cato killed the guard they found yesterday,” I tell her. “I killed Orsin. He's the one who knifed me. If I hadn't killed him, I would be dead.” I explain, trying to calm her. It won't do any good if she goes completely insane on me tonight. I need plenty of sleep, as I'm going back to school tomorrow morning.

“If you hadn't been out there, you wouldn't have needed to defend yourself!” she shrieks.

“What did you want me to do? Turn around and leave?” I argue.