The Destroyed Girl

Chapter 25: Explanation

RHEA'S POV
When the door shuts behind Newt, the last person to leave, everyone turns to look at me.

Trevor's eyes narrow. "How do you even remember so much? Did they give you back your memories?"

I falter here. "No."

They can piece the puzzle out. Dylan's eyes widen and Curtis and Trevor have matching expressions of shock. Aunt Rebecca scowls-something almost everyone in the Anderson family is famous for-and Aunt Corrine goes pale, while Uncle Argus clenches his fists.

"I'm terribly sorry of what you had to go through, dear Niece," Aunt Rebecca says solemnly.

I shake my head. "What I went through cannot be undone. We need to focus on the present. I loved my Father. He meant something to all of us. I'm proud to say I avenged him."

"You were the one," Aunt Corrine says softly. She was never a loud person. "You killed her. I thought as much."

Is it wrong that no one is surprised and that no one cares? "Yes," I reply. "But it's best to talk about this at the Conference."

"Indeed," Aunt Rebecca says. "New problems now arise. Go get settled in. I'll see you all at dinner."

~

The Anderson family-those of us here now-sit at the front of the table, and the rest at the end. The kids eat at the canteen, free food for them all. A wide array of food that will definitely satisfy them.

Uncle Argus, being the oldest, sits at the head, Aunt Corrine to his right and Aunt Rebecca to his left. The twins and Cyrus sit on the same row as their Mother, and Dylan and I sit across from them, at Aunt Rebecca's side. Newt sits next to me, the other boys following. The girls sit on the other side. The other end of the table is empty. My Father used to claim that seat. Me next to him. I refuse to sit at my old seat.

"So," Uncle Argus says. "You all used to be in the Maze."

"Yes," Thomas, glancing at me awkwardly.

"My family is to apologise for that," Uncle Argus says, and I tighten my grip on my utensils, knuckles going white.

"What do you mean?" Newt asks, frowning. "Wasn't it Ava who sent us in?"

Uncle Argus raises his eyebrow slightly, but I know it's surprise. "Ah." He looks at me, nodding slowly. "You didn't tell them. Predictable."

I look away as I'm greeted with confused looks from the others. "Runs in the family," I try to joke dryly. "I didn't know until I was kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Curtis speaks up, his brows furrowing. "By Ava? Why weren't we notified?"

I raise my eyebrow slightly. "I believe it's something she wouldn't want to tell the Andersons about."

Trevor nods slowly. "Just you?"

"No," I say, glancing over at Minho and nodding at him. "Me and Minho."

"Minho?" Cyrus pipes up. "He's my Friend."

"Cyrus," Curtis, who sits next to him, scolds.

Cyrus clamps his mouth shut, frowning. He's too innocent, too young.

"What did she do to you?" Dylan asks softly.

I stiffen unnoticeably. "Project 5. I didn't remember at that time, but recently, more of my memories have been coming back."

"Project 5?" Uncle Argus's tone goes a notch softer as anger permeates through it.

All of us kids inch away slightly, well familiar with the way Andersons would get quite when they got mad. Very familiar with the easy temper that Uncle Argus has.

"Uncle, we're fine now," I say, not looking at Minho. "It's okay."

Aunt Rebecca speaks up to diffuse the tense atmosphere. "We can speak of this at the Conference when the others are here. Rhea, you'll have to be there now."

"Conference?" Harriet speaks up. "Why would Rhea have to be there?"

Dylan raises both his eyebrows.

"Why wouldn't she? She's important in this whole thing. It's simple tradition," Dylan says smoothly.

"Tradition?" Sonya questions warily.

Newt's hand brushes against mine, as if he can sense my anxiety and desperate need to just be out of this room.

"The Conference is in two days," Uncle Argus says, ignoring Sonya's question. "I hope you are ready for the Events."

Us kids all share a look as we nod slowly, though Cyrus remains happily eating.

"What events?" Thomas asks sharply.

"Rhea, would you like to tell your partners?" Aunt Rebecca raises a brow expectantly at me.

I grit my teeth together. "There'll be a dinner, dancing, and other things planned," I say, hoping my family can't pick up on the annoyance in my voice. "All for the leaders and us Juniors."

"I'm sorry, Juniors?" Quill says.

"That would be us," Dylan says, cutting his steak. "We're the Juniors."

"Basically the kids of the leaders," Curtis speaks up.

"All of them are coming?" I ask, looking at my aunt.

She nods. "Yes. All of them. Except Denver's division. Excluding you."

I nod slowly. "Of course."

"It's okay if you aren't ready for this," Aunt Corrine interjects. "We understand how much you've been through these two years, with the Maze, your Father and then Ava."

Aunt Corrine. Always so caring. So understanding.

I shake my head, though I wish I could take the offer of not going. I haven't seen all these people in about three years. I can barely remember some of them. And yet...

"No," I say. "There's things I need to tell all of you. Important things we have to discuss."

Aunt Corrine smiles slightly at me. "Of course, Rhea. But if you ever change your mind, just tell us. We understand."

We understand.

No. They don't. They don't get it.

How could they? They've been isolated in their respective countries, free from the atrocities of the Mazes. While we, we were thrown into them and made into Science experiments.

Family or not, no one could ever really understand that unless they were there.