Blind & Broken

Chapter Twelve

Steam blows into my face and I have to stop myself from squealing. With the steam comes so many smells that make my mouth water. I can tell it's grilled chicken, sweet rice, and mixed vegetables on the platter in front of me. I resist picking up the fork and digging in immediately.

I wait patiently as a few more chairs screech back and then forward as people sit down. I start fiddling with my hands out of anxiety of not knowing who is who and who is where. It's a little intimidating.

"Go ahead and start eating." Taylor whispers from my left after a few moments.

"Thanks," I breath back and pick up my fork.

Conversation is scarce for several minutes, and all I can hear is the scraping of forks on plates as everyone digs into their meal. I do as well, and nearly sigh at the flavorsome tastes. I eat slow — as usual — to make sure I successfully get the food from my plate to my mouth without spilling or looking stupid.

I know how to do things on my own like this. Being born in the dark meant this was my normal. But it wasn't others' normals. I might look silly to them by the way I hold the utensil, or the speed I go through my food. Maybe people think I'm special needs. I guess in a way I am. I don't like to think of it that way.

About halfway through my plate, conversation begins to pick up. It seems everyone else has slowed down while I still chow down. I hope they aren't all staring at me, but that soon becomes false hope. I can feel an individual set of eyes on me as I eat. But the gaze isn't burning; it's curious. Looking up, I focus on the direction the gaze comes from, intentionally trying to match the person's eyes. I think I scare them a little because the heat goes away and I know they dropped their stare.

"How have you been, Brynlee?" A voice asks from the left of me, but it seems farther; maybe even from the head of the dining table.

"I've been good!" Brynlee responds cheerfully. I wonder if anyone could hear the truth underneath the joy she shows.

"And your friend?" The person presses. The voice is female, and strong; authoritative.

"Oh!" Brynlee exclaims. She sounds embarrassed, but I ignore it and straighten up as my friend introduces me. "This is Indigo. We met on the train. I hope it's not a problem I brought her with, she needed a place to go."

"Of course!" The woman says, "Indigo, you're very welcome here."

"Thank you." I say politely. Hopefully she heard me.

"So tell me," the woman continues, "is everything alright at home, Bryn? Your visit is welcome, just a little unexpected."

"Everything is fine." Her voice is more clipped, but I'm not sure if the woman catches it.

"And what about you, Indigo? Any particular reason you landed yourself on the train out East?"

"She's a runaway." Bryn says casually to everyone's shock, including my own.

"Brynlee!" I hiss.

"What? It's fine! I trust these people with my life!"

"Yes, but I don't know them!" I was fully aware everyone could here us arguing, but what if they called my pack?!

I feel a hand land softly on my arm. Taylor. "We won't call anyone, I promise. But tell me: are you running from the law or from home?"