The Haskew Clan
Tunde Haskew – Oldest Brother of the Two Haskew Brothers
Anaya Zima Haskew – Wife of Tunde Haskew, Nurse and Mother of four children
Keziah Haskew – First daughter of Tunde and Anaya
Lydia Haskew – Second daughter of Tunde and Anaya
Robert “Bobbie” Haskew – Only son of Tunde and Anaya
Anna Haskew – Third daughter of Tunde and Anaya

Silas Haskew – Younger Brother of Tunde Haskew, Mechanic and Chef
Faye Haskew – Wife of Silas Haskew, Specialist doctor
Naomi Haskew – Daughter of Silas and Faye, Keziah’s older cousin
Rachel Haskew – Youngest daughter of Silas and Faye

The Laity Clan
Paul Laity – Lawyer
Grace Laity – Lawyer
Jayson Laity – Son to Paul and Grace, graduated with a theology degree

Others
Clinton Reagan – Older friend to Keziah Haskew
Ada Davis – Clinton’s long-term girlfriend
Keely Taylor – Naomi’s best friend
Chadwick Mundy – Keziah’s classmate
Brianna Peters – Keziah’s classmate and friend
Officer Martin York – Police Investigator

The heat was overwhelming, the jostling of the vehicle squeaking underneath her as she clutched hold of her large nylon bag. The burden of her only belongings weighed heavily on her thighs and she shifted the bag, careful not to nudge the sleeping old woman beside her. Flies swooped around her head but she could not lift a hand to swat them away. Bustling traffic, chattering voices and the suffocating air pushed at Anansi and she couldn’t help but want to return a few miles back. This was a mistake, she didn’t mean to agree with them. Yes it was a good opportunity like Mama said, yes she should accept the gift and make them happy but traveling so far away from home, from them, how could this be the best thing for her?

She frowned, glancing out the window as the rickety bus that trudged them along the bumping dirt road. Almost dawn and no air even from outside could calm her wandering mind, it was humid and hot in the bus. She missed the tall trees that provided shade for her and the family back home, the rivers that offered their cool moisture, the soft and cool breeze even when the sun was in full swing. The bustling city of Lagos, with its smog and pollution, seemed to suffocate any comfort that Anansi was seeking. She was on a new journey to her new home.

A few hours later and the bus halted to a stop quickly. Anansi’s body jerked forward and she jammed her head against the seat in front of her, the force almost loosening her hold of her bag. Biting down on her lip to keep from crying out, Anansi blinked awake and glanced around. Half the passengers had already left the bus and the old woman sleeping beside her was gone. Now alert, Anansi searched the windows for any clue on where she was. She’d told the bus conductor where she needed to go before boarding but now wondered if she’d fallen asleep and missed her stop. “Adeola Odeku Street!” the conductor called and Anansi shot to her feet. She hadn’t missed it after all.

Hurrying to the exit where the conductor was waiting to help her carry her bag, Anansi thanked the young man who had several markings on his cheekbones. He merely nodded and waited for the young girl to jump off the bus before tapping the roof of the rickety bus. Anansi stepped back and watched the bus trudge along before looking around. Cars of different sizes, colors and brands zoomed past, motorcycles weaving through the road, the gas fumes assailing Anansi’s nose as they swept by her. She stepped back from the street and looked around, surprised by this new setting. Her eyes traveled along the long busy sidewalk where small open shops were set up, vegetables and fruits being sold, while some carried boxes of various treats to sell. Sighing inwardly, Anansi gripped her bag. She didn’t want to be here. Why couldn’t her parents wait a few more years and then send her brother? This was not the place she belonged.

“Make your family proud, Anansi. Do this for us, Anansi,” she could hear her mother’s pleading words, could still feel the hot tears staining her skin as her mother clung to her and begged her to go. It was not often that her mother cried or at least made it known that she was disturbed. The few times were by accident and her mother never saw her; once when armed robbers stole the money they’d earned a few years ago and another when the crops were failing due to polluted water. Anansi knew from experience that when her mother cried, it was because she could do nothing else. The young girl knew she would have to help her mother this time, even if it was venturing out into a world of the unknown.

Swallowing hard, she strengthened her legs and began her walk up the street, recalling the directions given to her. “Take a left, cross the street at the fountain, walk past the two orange-painted houses and it is there,” she muttered to herself, having committed to memory her mother’s instructions. Bewildered that her mother had actually traveled away from the village to a city she left long ago, Anansi was more confident that she had to do this for her mother if nothing else. Her mother hated Lagos.

Feet aching from the long trek, her arms straining against the weight of her bag, Anansi paused in step and took a few deep breaths. Her nerves were getting to her, the fear of what awaited her making it harder to move forward, making it harder to breathe. “Wohtah!” a girl as young as Anansi’s second sister came walking by. Her clothes were a little dusty and tattered as she thrust a cool bottle of water against Anansi’s chest.

Anansi stared at the girl’s ashy face, caught her unwavering gaze and for a minute wanted to purchase this beverage even though she had no money to spend. Reluctantly she shook her head and walked slowly away, hearing the girl’s voice calling behind her. She already missed home, missed her siblings and her safe place. Why did she have to come here?

The vendors called out to her, some men were already selling roasted meat, suya, and whistling through their teeth. “My wife! Abeg, make you come sit down chop na, wetin? You no hear me?” one of them asked. Her body shivered and she kept moving forward. Up ahead, she saw an orange-colored building and picked up her steps. Suddenly, her destination seemed like a refuge compared to these busy streets.

Gasping for air, she finally passed the two orange houses―both a sight to behold, with arches towering the trees in front, black-wired fences blocking Anansi’s perusal. She didn’t stop to admire them further, wanting to reach her destination as soon as possible, counting the houses before she would make a turn and find her new home. Clutching her bag, she trudged onward, her gaze intent on the paved road before her. The more she walked, the longer the road got and her knees grew tired and weak. She shifted the bag on her other shoulder and huffed a breath to keep walking. “Don’t be late on your first day, Anansi, make us proud,” she heard her mother’s voice echoing while she walked. Nodding as if her mother was watching her, Anansi took bigger steps.

She could hear rushing water ahead and birds chirping as the traffic from behind her faded out. The promise of serenity urged her forward and soon enough Anansi soon spotted a painted wire fence with intricate design and a sign tacked on top. “Segoe Secondary School…” she read slowly, her eyes scanning the bold, black letters imprinted against the clean white board.

… stay tuned for more …

Dear T.J Komo, I dedicate this story to you, celebrating your life as I should have while you were still alive. I wish I could turn back time and tell you how much I love you but I pray one day, we’ll meet again and I can tell you face to face. I love you, dear brother. See you soon.

End of Life Remembered.
© DeeKomo 2006

Ivana glared down at the email print-out from her boss. Two weeks in a small town for investigation analysis projects. Alone. Her skin crawled in anticipation and she felt a heat wave rush through her body, causing her to lean back in the chair. This was not happening. Again.

As suggested, this was not the first time she’d been given an assignment that would stretch her mentally and drain her physically. Known for her chronic anxiety problems with every new work assignment, Ivana already felt a migraine ensuing by this new task. She could sense the amount of duties that would be cast on her shoulders as the days drew closer to her departure to Telluride, CO.

Moaning, Ivana slowly lowered her head to the table and bumped her head repeatedly. “I hate this job so much…” she murmured, closing her eyes to block away the rampant thoughts of her duties ahead.

It was just like the state to hire less than any corporation, never train them adequately and then expect them to perform as well as their seasoned employees. Ivana had only been working for five months at this job and was already being assigned to a small-town without without any supervision or help, two thick binders full of information about the companies she would investigate, and no experience on what to look for once she got there. How counterproductive.

A hand patted her shoulder but Ivana refused to look up, knowing the other person would not have to be stuck in some town for two weeks. “Come on Ivy,” the older woman’s gentle voice attempted to comfort her. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad…”

“Any town with a name that sounds like a dangerous chemical reaction has to be bad,” Ivana groaned heavily. She hated this job and regretted the day she’d accepted the position.

STOP.

Ivana is at her wits end and I don’t blame her. Her job doesn’t seem to have enough staff members; those who were hired earlier or at the same time as her are quitting before she can even take a breath, and her bosses are shoving new information and assignments on her with little training. What should she do? Wish for the past where she could decline the job and look for another productive career, or fast-forward and make the best of this strange opportunity to improve herself?

REWIND.

It’s 12:15pm on Tuesday morning and Ivana is studying the list of interview questions provided by an inside source from the company. She has a meeting with her future boss, hopefully, and surprisingly she’s not as nervous as she should be. Probably because she’s already sure of how to answer every question and what questions she has of her own.

The door opens and a light-skinned woman peers out of the office, beaming kindly at the girl sitting outside the lobby. “Ivana Kingston?” she calls out.

Ivana looks up and nods, standing to her feet and picking up her briefcase. “Yes, that’s me. Hi.” Assertively, she extends a free hand and stares the woman right in the eye. “Nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

The woman nods her greeting, openly impressed with this girl. She opens the door wider to reveal a tall and slightly portly man, her colleague. Ivana is not surprised and enters the room where there is a round table and three chairs, two vacant. The woman points to one opposite the man sitting down. “Please have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Ivana replies and takes a seat, folding her ankles underneath. She waits patiently for the first answer.

A few minutes later and the two interviewers are laughing at one of Ivana’s well-executed answers. “Nice… That must have been an experience for you.”

Ivana nods enthusiastically. “Yes, I would say I learned a lot about my abilities to bounce back from surprises.”

“Good, you’ll need that in this kind of job,” the man says easily and quickly jots down a few notes on his notebook.

Ivana waits for the woman to speak, her head tilted expectantly. “Do you have any questions for us?” the woman asks.

“Yes, just a few…”

“Okay, shoot.”

Ivana clears her throat. “Well, I just wanted to get a feel for what kind of job this is. Will I be working in a group with people or work solely?”

The woman and man glance at each other, both shifting in their chairs. Tough question to answer directly, perhaps? “Hmm, good question,” the man answers and laughs quickly. “With the state, it’s quite unpredictable. Sometimes, you might be faced with a big project and depending on the situation, you might have to work on your own or with people…” he gives his colleague a quick look to see if he’s answered it sufficiently.

By the slight frown on the woman’s face, not quite. “Basically, with your newfound skills of bouncing back when handed a surprise or a twist in assignment, I’m sure you can handle both working in a group or independently.”

“Ah I see…” Ivana responds cryptically and bobs her head.

The man and woman both release a soft sigh, seemingly relieved that this question was over and done with. “Anymore questions?” the woman asks hesitantly, sensing the girl wanted to ask more.

“How much traveling is required for the job?” Ivana replies and catches their shoulders stiffening visibly.

“How much is too much?” the man replies jokingly and the woman chuckles dryly. “No I’m kidding. I mean you’re young enough to enjoy traveling. It’s experience and would benefit your outlook on life, wouldn’t you say?”

Ivana smiles, tongue in cheek. “You’re right, it would change my outlook on life.”

“Yeah…” the two say and once the silence became a bit defeaning, the woman looks up at Ivana. “No more questions?”

“No more. Thank you for answering them for me,” she says to both.

“No problem, no problem,” the two interviewers reply in chorus and practically shoot to their feet. They extend their hands out to Ivana who gracefully shake each before she is led to the door. “We’ll definitely be contacting you later this week,” the woman explains to Ivana.

The girl nods her gratitude and waves to them before making her way out of the interview room.

As Ivana strolls down the hallway and out the door to the parking lot, she shakes her head determinately. “Thank you but no thanks.”

STOP.

Lesson learned. Research EVERYTHING before you accept a job that almost sounds too good to be true. If it sounds too awesome, it’s probably not.

end of Chapter Three

She gaped at him across the table, unbelieving what he’d just told her. “Next time you try to get in a relationship, don’t do this…” he said, trying to sound gentle and caring even though his words were biting and harsh. Sade kept her face still and just listened to him recant every memory between them, from the moment he approached her to the time he realized that she was not the one.

Do what exactly? What did he mean by that? What did she do that was so bad, that he would single her out in this place and tell her she was inadequate and a waste of his time? Her fists curled under the table, she biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from lashing out at him. What right did he have to do this to her?

How dare he sit opposite her, his brown eyes pleading with her to understand him? That he had no choice but to tell her this way. Even the corner of his mouth turned downward, in an attempt to remain penitent. It annoyed her to no end but she managed to stay calm instead of slugging him across the cheek with her trembling fist.

“So are we good?” his voice penetrated her muddled thoughts.

Sade looked up at his expectant face. “Huh?”

He sighed in obvious exasperation. “Did you hear anything I just said?” Rolling his eyes to the heavens, he mumbled something about her always ignoring his attempts to be understanding toward her. Apparently, this was a reason for him wanting not to pursue a relationship with her. To him, it was her fault that they were not going to progress further… At least that’s what she got out of it. “Fine then, Sade. I’m tired of compromising with you. You’ve been stubborn since the beginning and I should’ve noticed this before wast…” he stopped himself when Sade’s brow slammed into an angry V. Not wanting to be more confrontational, he rose to his full height of six feet and peered down at her. “I gotta go. Take care of yourself, Sade.” And without waiting for her to say anything else, he turned away from her.

Sade remained seated, gaping after his lanky figure strolling down the street and disappearing around the corner. The bustling sounds of traffic and people laughing in the coffee shop where she seated resumed and Sade’s shoulders sagged forward. She set her gaze downward and swallowed hard. “What?” she finally spoke, regaining control of her tongue.

Pause.

Hmm… Seems like Sade has a lot to think about. Would it have been better to go back and change the past? Would it change the outcome and is it worth it? Nah.

Fast forward.

Almost two years since she saw him and Sade had a feeling she would have to prepare herself mentally to take whatever was thrown at her. Especially from his end of the family who had been rooting for them since the beginning. She sometimes heard from his cousin and sisters, asking if she still corresponded with him, to which she answered a definitive ‘not really.’

Why? Not because she was bitter and would rather not hear his voice. In fact, she managed to contact him once or twice after that event and had a short but casual conversation with him. Perhaps he thought her response to him too civil and moved away or was “busy with life” as he always said, even when they were talking. Not that she cared. Life took on a new meaning for her after that day. Family members, her future and some friends became more important than dwelling on someone’s callous words about her character. She’d learned a lot from him and for that she was grateful. The lesson: Research before you start a project. Hah! Sound advice.

Now sitting on one side of the aisle with her hands crossed over her chiffon peach dress with a flower resting on her lap, Sade kept her eyes forward and smiled while her older cousin danced with her beloved. It was Kami’s wedding and Sade and the family managed to fly over to attend, not that Sade had a choice–she was in the train. Maybe it crossed her mind briefly that she might see him here but it did not bother her. Like she said before, her life was very important now and she didn’t have time to delve on the past any longer.

Sade smiled when one of her sisters gestured her over from the dance floor. They were about to play Cupid Shuffle and everyone was excited. She shook her head, wanting to pass. Her feet were throbbing incessantly from those four-inch stilettos. Curse wedding garb!

“Sade?” a tenor spoke over the noise, causing the girl to turn around. Her brow raised when she noticed a slender and tall guy dressed in a dress shirt and slacks, freshly-shaven head and a kind but hesitant smile. “Oh wow. I knew it was you.”

She slowly rose to her feet and smiled at him. “Hey.” Friendly enough. One point.

His smile waned a little but he laughed nervously and nodded. “What a coincidence that you’d be here. I just thought about you this week and here you are.” He shook his head incredulously. “You look like you’re doing well.”

“Yeah I am. And you?” Polite enough. One point.

“Yeah yeah, I’m doing well. I’m working at a new place now. My salary jumped a lot and I might be moving to a new city,” he said excitedly, his eyes scanning her face. Probably for any trace of the Sade he once knew.

Sade nodded, her grin wider. “I see your excitement. Good for you. Thank God for his faithfulness.” Interested enough. Two points.

He blinked at her then. Something was off to him. He couldn’t put his finger on it but she was acting a little strange. “Um… well,” he glanced around, probably trying to figure out what else to talk to her about.

Just then, someone called out her name. It was time for the bouquet toss, an event Sade loathed. Especially with her feet aching. She groaned lightly. “Oh no, I gotta go but it was nice meeting you again. Take care of yourself, okay?” And with a kind enough smile, she turned around and walked over to meet with the other bridesmaids, poising themselves for Kami’s flower toss.

STOP.

end of Chapter Two

It’s 1995. 10:00am. The hallways remains undisturbed and the whooshing wind pushes the tips of the tall wildflowers against the cement wall of the Chauncey Prep School for Teens. Students are indoors, rushing up and down the hallways, socks skidding along the polished floor while hollering from room to room. Student prefects are sprinting up and down the stairs, making sure their residents are ready. For what, you say?

Inspection time. It happens every Saturday, performed by the House Mistress, Mrs. Redgrave. Most residents are prepared with the room floors gleaming from the recent polish used by old toothbrushes, the bathrooms sparkling bright from vigorous scrubbing during Friday late hours. Backs are aching, feet and hands throbbing. But there’s a collective sense of victory and satisfaction for their hard work.

Carefully-pressed clothes and clean underwear are laid out carefully and shoes are polished, resting at the foot of each properly-made bed. Each student stands proudly in front of their bed and await Mrs. Redgrave’s expected visit. Except one student. Her bed is properly made, her shoes are waiting, gleaming impressively. Her uniform and other street clothes are folded, properly pressed on the mattress… and no underwear to show. The girl lowers her head penitently. It’s obvious that she’s going to get punished.

Someone gasps from the front of the room and all eyes, include that of the poor girl jerk to the door where a pale-skinned plump woman is standing with her arms folded over her chest. She’s staring straight at the poor girl, her radar vision spotting the sole offender in the room. The poor girl gulps hard and shifts her eyes back to the floor.

PAUSE!

It’s obvious that this poor girl, let’s call her Em, is in deep trouble. Somehow, she does not have any undergarments to provide for the weekly inspection. But Em knows one thing. Someone, whether in this room, or the others in the dormitory, have something to do with her missing undergarments. Em wishes she could have prevented this disaster and deal with the kleptomaniacs residing in the dorm with her.

REWIND.

It’s 1995. A week and a half before Saturday’s inspection. Wednesday 6:00pm. Students are strolling leisurely from prep time to get ready for their much-needed time. Em leans against a tree, holding a dark cloth bag full of clothes and a threaded needle in the other hand. A friend of hers, Sola, skips over to her and grabs her hand. “Come, let’s go out and go meet those guys we talked to in class.”
Em tugs her hand back and shakes her head. “Sorry, Sola… I have to finish this before I can take a break.” She tries to ignore her throbbing finger from how many times she’s pierced her thumb and index fingers.
Sola pouts and folds her arms, peering down at the bag. “What are you sewing?” she makes no attempt to investigate, seeing how Em is hiding the bag between her and the tree.
“I’ll explain later,” Em mumbles, frowning down at the needle.
Sola shrugs and turns away to meet with her other classmate while her friend toils the night away.

Friday 3:00am. Supposedly everyone was to be asleep at this time and only crickets are heard croaking outside the window by Em’s bed. Her hands, folded under her head, are counting the seconds before it turns 5:00am and time to get up. Ears are perked for any other sound other than her roommates’ snoring and sleep mumbles. Em keeps her eyes narrowed open in the dark of the room, the only light supplied by the half-moon casting its glow from the window above her bed.
There’s a shuffling of feet by the end of the room and Em stiffens, her breath held. Urgent whispers are heard and getting louder as they approach the aisle where her bed sits. They were coming. She knew it! Gritting her teeth, Em tries to relax her eyes when two shadows fall over her bed. The offenders peer down at her. “Is she sleeping?” one whispers. “I can’t hear anything.”
“Maybe she’s a deep sleeper,” another whispers, breathing down on Em’s face. The girl remains still on her bed. “Okay, whatever… Do you have the pin?”
“Uh-hmm.”
“Okay, then open it. Hurry before someone gets up to use the toilet.”
The sounds of metal scratching metal grate Em’s ears. She’s utterly flabbergasted as the padlock on her bedside locker clicks open and squeaks silently. The breath lingering over Em’s face drifts away. She squints open one eye and notices that the two figures are now crouched over her open locker.
“Oooh, she has cookies.”
A hand quickly slaps over a shoulder. “Focus. We can ask her directly for cookies. Where’s that expensive shampoo her father brought from overseas? Oh there it is.”
Em squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. That was the only gift she had remaining from her parents’ last visit. How could people be so cruel?
“Aaaw, look, I like this color.”
Em stiffens again when there’s a definite pause from the other girl.
“What size?”
“Four?”
“Hmm, maybe we can stretch it. Is it elastic enough? Would be a waste if we can’t though.”
“Yeah, it’s elastic enough. So how many?”
“Take them all. She’s rich enough to get more.”
There’s another pause and Em bites her bottom lip, wondering if she should get up now or wait later. When the shadows rise over her bed again, she remains still and determinately chooses the latter, closing her eyes once the footsteps drift from her bed and the silence fills the room again.

Saturday 10:00am.
The girl gulps as Mrs. Redgrave trudges her way forward, glaring at her. She keeps her hands folded in front of her and awaits the trashing from the older woman. Mrs. Redgrave clears her throat once she stands in front of Em and shakes her head. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Yes Ma’am?” Em replies politely, already hearing the almost-inaudible giggles from behind her. She doesn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know who the offenders are.
The older woman’s lips twist impatiently. “Where are your undergarments?”
Em takes a pause and glances once over her shoulder at the empty spot where she would’ve put the new underwear purchased from her mother. “They’re not here.”
“Of course they’re not!” Mrs. Redgrave grits between clenched teeth, glaring a hole into Em’s head. “Where are they?” she demands.
Em turns around and this time glances at the two prefects standing by their beds in front of the door. They’re trying hard to hold their laughter, their lips twitching. She holds back a smile, having glanced around the room before the inspection. “I inscribed my initials on them, Ma’am…” she said and bites the insides of her cheeks when the two girls’ smiles fade instantly.

Stop.

Em finally caught the underwear thieves and was rewarded with a profuse apology from both prefects who were demoted instantly once Mrs. Redgrave discovered their dishonorable acts. Apparently, they’d been looting students’ personal items since they were in school but thanks to Em’s quick, reflective thinking, they will never steal again… At least not in Chauncey Prep School.

end of Chapter One

The Mistress made Petra escort Rue to the lake, knowing the Hutyle girl was the only one she’d be comfortable with. Rue gently asked the child why she wasn’t carrying her own towel and Petra just gave her a half-smile but never a response.

Once they passed the moss-covered ground and the slanted weeping willows, just in front was a large oasis of a clear lake, quiet, still and. Rue blinked, believing she truly had left Seattle. Then Petra mutely handed her a bar of black crystal and turned to leave. “W-where are you going?”

“Call for me when you are ready to return,” was the reply as the girl headed back down the path.

Suddenly Rue didn’t feel like taking a shower, especially in this unknown territory and without an escort. But when she opened her mouth to protest, Petra was gone.

An hour passed and Rue stood neck-high in the icy cold lake, her hot body slowly cooling. She sighed, leaning her close-shaved head against a tree that erected from the depths of the waters. Only birds and frogs croaked nearby, interrupting the quiet around her but she didn’t mind. It was better than the stifling silence of that room in the shelter.

One more day in that house and Rue believed she would lose her mind. She lifted her feet, floating on her back in the stream and managed a smile as the water gently stroked her bare skin. Her first bath in weeks and her body welcomed the luxury.

Just then, a twig snapped in the distance and goosebumps chased up her arms as she jerked upright and scanned the area with alerted eyes. No sign of anyone. But she’d heard something. She held her breath, wading in the water as she waited for the sound to reveal the intruder. Then all of a sudden, a small rabbit hopped from behind the tree and padded along the path, disappearing into one of the thick brushes.

Rue released her breath and laughed softly, relieved. She shook her head, annoyed by herself for getting worked up over a rabbit. Turning her back to the trees, she picked up the crystal and rubbed her fingers over the rough edges, her eyes widening as bubbles trailed along her skin. Soap.

She shook her head, no longer surprised by the crazy ‘magic’ from the Mistress. First black porridge, then the wondrous glittering skin of the Hutyle and now soaping crystals.

Sighing, she lifted the soap and grazed it lightly over her skin, finding it incredibly smooth. Rue closed her eyes, feeling the bubbles tickle her flesh gently.

Then all of a sudden, a hand wrapped around her wrist and jerked her backward. Rue’s eyes wrenched open and she swallowed a gasp as another hand closed over her mouth, jerking her down into the waters. She tried to scream, her lips forcing apart but her cries were only muffled by the water.

Trashing her arms in attempt to escape, Rue’s eyes stayed open with hopes to find out who was holding her imprisoned, gargling for help under the water. Then before she knew what was happening, a sharp and hard object slammed against the back of her head and she faded into the darkness, slipping deeper into the abyss once the forceful hands released her.

—

The sounds of the cars honking and brakes below roused her awake and she groaned at the pounding migraine pushing against the back of her head. Lying on top of a warm, silky cushion was not as comforting as one would imagine, especially if waking up in a strange place.

Lifting herself on her elbows, the girl blinked twice and let her gaze wander around the empty apartment. Black walls, polished marble floors, impeccable furnishings, drawn blinds over wide open windows. This was not the Shelter.

She heard the city traffic, so different from the stifling quiet of the park where the Shelter was located and her heart picked up speed. She was back in Kent. In Seattle, her home. Despite the incessant head throbbing, her lips curled in a half-smile, grateful to have finally escaped. But how? Her brow furrowed slightly, eyes stopping in front of the door left ajar to her right.

Shifting her legs from the bed, she rose slowly but halted instantly, growing aware that she was not wearing much of anything―just a pale-white silky nightgown with lace short-sleeves. Her eyes widened visibly and she jerked back inside the covers when slow footsteps could be heard, feigning sleep. The footsteps stopped at the front of the door and Rue debated whether to pretend she was dead instead. Something was wrong here. The last thing she remembered was bathing in the lake―how did she end up in the city and in this get-up?

“I see you’re awake,” a tenor-toned voice drifted her way and Rue clamped her tongue between her teeth to keep from shivering. The voice was as sweet as warm honey but frigid as sharp winter, penetrating even the densest bone.

Rue remained still. Something was definitely wrong here.

Footsteps masked the silence, approaching her while the voice remained still. Then a soft drawn-out sigh sounded just above her. She gasped sharply when stark cold hands slid under the covers and flipped them back, exposing her. Rue squeezed her eyes shut, invoking a slow yet terrifying laugh from the owner of the voice. “Are you scared?” there was mockery as well as in confusion in the tone.

Rue swallowed hard, still contemplating whether to hold her breath until she passed out. Darkness seemed more promising that acquainting herself with the owner of the voice.

“Look at me,” the voice demanded and without hesitation, her eyes snapped open against her will. Before her stood a young face with striking almond-shaped, bright-green eyes framed with black long lashes. A long straight nose, a broad and supple mouth and extraordinarily high cheekbones. His features looked slightly familiar but she couldn’t place him anywhere in her memory. As if hearing her thoughts, his mouth widened into a smile and she noticed his teeth were straight and reasonably white, the shade of new pearls.

“We finally meet again…” he broke the silence with his steady, eerie voice and Rue felt her heart race incessantly. His fingers trailed up her arm lightly like a lover reacquainting himself with his mistress.

end of Chapter XX

She was skittish and refusing to talk to him, Gray admitted to himself when Rue finally left the dark solace of her bedchamber. After being locked up in her room for what seemed like an eternity, somehow one of the Hutyle had finally coaxed her outside, something he failed to do. Gray frowned to himself, watching her as she walked slowly with her companions, the two children who had approached her on her first day in the shelter. She seemed comfortable with them, even summoning a smile when the young boy made an attempt of a joke.

Something was different about her though, something had changed in the way she looked at him or perhaps didn’t. Ever since she left the room, her eyes refused to meet him and he never could figure it out. All he knew was that the Mistress held back an amused smile when he turned to her with a bemused expression crossing his brow. Sighing, Gray lowered his head to the ditch he was digging and lowered the rusty shovel in his hands onto the damp dirt.

Rue managed a laugh when Petra tugged at her t-shirt and held out a plucked daisy from the adjacent flowerbed. She nodded her head slightly that it was barely noticed and accepted the flower. That was when she noticed a movement at the corner of her eye and turned, her body shivering involuntarily at the sight of Gray shirtless and bent over a mound of dirt. Her brow furrowed, wondering why he hadn’t bothered to talk to her since that night. Her cheeks warmed and she turned her head away.

Petra and Yunis glanced curiously over their shoulders. Misinterpreting her gaze as confusion, Petra smiled and patted Rue’s hand. “Shall we go back inside?” the younger girl spoke softly and Rue felt goosebumps chase up her arms. She found her head bobbing lightly. “Alright, Yunis. We are ready.”

She tugged at Rue’s sleeve and led her inside. Yunis kept his eyes on Gray until the older man looked up from his chore and caught the young boy’s colorful eyes.

Gray was still not used to the intense glares of the Hutyle even after spending most of his resting periods in the shelter. Mistress made it clear to him that he was not to grow attached to them but he was confused as to why she didn’t make a fuss when these two glued themselves to Rue. He’d meant to ask her many times, a little worried about the way they seemed extremely hostile whenever he came near Rue but Mistress always shook her head, a sign that the conversation was over and hobbled away before he could protest.

Frowning now at the young boy who glared steadily at him from where he stood, Gray straightened his body and stared right back, although his bones trembled a bit. Still, he would not back down―whatever this kid wanted, he would find it out without backing down.

Then Yunis bowed his head slightly and Gray blinked in response as the Hutyle child turned and headed inside where Rue and Petra had entered. Shaking his head after the strange little fellow, Gray made a note to himself to approach the Mistress one more time and resumed his digging.

end of Chapter XIX

Painful twisting of her abdomen roused Rue awake and the girl moaned softly, turning her head into the soft pillow. Her stomach growled noisily, louder than her moaning and she pressed a hand over it. Blinking her eyes open, she widened them at the darkness of her room beside the moonlight that peeked from the muslin curtains. When was the last time she ate? Her stomach protested loudly and squeezed at her insides. She bit her bottom lip and reluctantly rose to her feet.

The door creaked noisily and Rue winced, pausing her hand at the door handle. Darkness filled the hallway, seeping into her room and she almost shut the door again, not wanting to be revisited by her nightmares. But there was a greater force beckoning her out of the room―the aroma of warm bread and roasted meat and her grumbling stomach twisted in pain, straining toward the smell.

Obeying the sweet aroma that beckoned her, Rue shifted her feet from her room and closed the door behind her silently. Her heart skipped a beat as the darkness closed in on her and she suddenly wanted to mute her hunger and retreat back to the bedroom.

However, the sweet scents called her forward, somehow leading her blindly down the hallway. Rue padded lightly on the sturdy wooden floors that had been creaky when she first arrived but she made no notice of this and followed her hunger pangs down the dark alley. It seemed like an arduous attempt and she soon grew tired of the dark unknown, not even sure if she was dreaming about the food she believed was at the other end of the long hallway. Then she saw a soft light a few feet away and picked up speed, shuffling toward the light.

The smell was stronger, more inviting and her stomach growled triumphantly as she entered an open space, the walls around her covered with crude slate brick, the ceiling tall and almost unseen in the looming shadow hanging above it. She shivered despite how incredibly warm it was in here compared to the dark hallway.

“Rue?” a familiar voice interrupted her survey of the room and Rue snapped her eyes forward, heart skipping a bit at the dark man crouched by the fireplace with a metal rod. His hair was pure snow-white and soft, curling around his face and almost hiding those piercing gray eyes. This man, surely he couldn’t be the same one that had sat next to her on the bus or tried to talk to her and save her from the theater. She frowned, evading his gaze and looked down at the warm stone floor.

“Can you not sleep anymore?” his voice drifted over, chilling her despite the warmth.

She remained mute, head down and mouth in a stern line.

“Are you hungry?” he asked and smiled to himself when her lips parted as if in anticipation of food. “Come eat. It’s not blackened porridge but it’s something you should be used to.” She heard a scrape on the stone floor and looked up, mouth watering when she now noticed the loaf of bread sitting to his side.

He caught her gaze and smiled gently. “Come sit, Rue…” He gestured to the chair opposite him and turned to tear a piece of bread onto his plate. Gray watched her from his lowered lids as she shuffled hesitantly toward the stool and waited until she perched on it before extending the plate to her. “Here.”

Rue looked down at the sweet-smelling bread and the toasted crust before glancing up at him. He nodded, nudging the plate closer. She silently reached for it and pulled it onto her lap. With a few seconds staring at it, wondering if she should trust this man to provide her food but her stomach won and she lifted the soft bread to her mouth, sinking her teeth into the soft dough.

“Do you plan on staying in your room forever, Rue?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

Rue snapped her head up and he could see the irritation flaming in them, even without the reflection of the flames from the furnace beside her. She clamped her mouth shut and chewed hurriedly.

“Slow down, I won’t say anything,” he muttered, seeing she was quick to force the half-masticated bread down her throat.

Rue turned her eyes to study the quiet room around them. Furnishings were bare, just a few stools scattered around and fur mats splayed on the floor. The fireplace was the only light supplied to the room so the corners were dark and looming, Rue felt goosebumps push up her arms. She frowned, pausing at her chewing. “Where is this place?” she finally spoke, her voice husky from lack of use and prolonged sleep.

“The shelter,” Gray answered simply, resuming his stoking the burning wood.

“Where?”

Gray looked up at her confused expression and sighed. “It’s hard to explain.”

Rue pursed her lips. “Am I a prisoner?”

“No. You are a guest.”

Somehow she didn’t believe him and wanted to get up, to run away. “Then why am I being kept in a room?”

He tilted his head, dark brows furrowed. “No one is asking you to stay in the room, Rue…” he paused, studying her.

Rue had enough. Of the filling bread and his unsettling company. She rose to her feet and walked toward the hallway. There had to be a way of escape, she had to leave this shelter that seemed more a prison than a haven.

“If you keep running, you might not find out the truth you desperately seek, Rue,” his soft voice penetrated her wandering mind. He sighed when her footsteps quickened down the dark hallway and he returned to pushing the logs over each other, the room suddenly thirty degrees colder than before Rue entered.

Rue paused in the middle of the hallway, the heavy sensation that she had no clue where she was and where she could turn, her shoulders sagged in defeat.

When she returned to her room a few minutes later, the covers draped over her head, Gray’s words repeated incessantly in her mind as she faded back to sleep again.

end of Chapter XVIII

The bustle of the city outside the window of the loft apartment was a clear indication of how troubled the Master was and the maid, Gail, was worried as she tiptoed around his bedroom, careful not to make a sudden movements. Her fingers shook and trembled with each step, her breath labored.

This was her first real day on the job and she’d been cautioned by the agency that he was a tormented young man. The first time she’d arrived, he wasn’t there―only his assistant, a middle-aged man with a solemn expression and the pallor of a sick man, jaundiced skin and a slack mouth, his bald head shining over the dim spotlights ahead.

There were many things strange about her employer, she’d come to find out. One, he hated the lights on full beam. Two, he hated noise, which was a mystery to her considering the city traffic bustled sixty-feet from his loft apartment. Three, he hated the smell of cheese and milk products. Four, he ate a strictly red-meat diet and despised chicken. Of course she was just the maid and not the cook but the assistant made sure it was imprinted in her mind, drilling her every time she showed up to work. ‘Just in case,’ the assistant told her when she meekly asked.

For the first two weeks, she trained as if she was in maid boot camp, memorizing every rule in the book of how to serve the Master efficiently. The assistant refused to give her the real identity of the person she was serving, it was not her business, he told her firmly before resuming his lessons. Gail sighed and her eyes widened, snapping a hand to her mouth when the lump on the bed shifted.

Her heart picking up speed, she tiptoed to another corner of the bedroom and bent at the knees to pick up the pile of clothes. Expensive material, she mused silently and buried her face. A strong musky scent of man and sweat and the remnants of expensive cologne filled her nostrils. She lowered the clothes and frowned when the smell now surrounded her, her body growing hot.

A gentle warm air brushed the nape of her neck, making her hair stand on its ends and her eyes widened when she heard someone breathing slowly behind her. Her heart picked up speed, pumping faster and harder, her hands trembling. The scent from the clothes was coming from behind her as well and it didn’t take her long to realize what she had done. The Master was awake.

Gail couldn’t scream, her vocal chords were frozen stiff. Hands trembling, she felt cold yet smooth fingers slide along her abdomen, under the buttoned-down shirt of her uniform. She wanted to whimper, to cry out but nothing. Buttons flew free from their stitching by the jerking of the hand and Gail forgot to breathe, she couldn’t, not as his fingers traveled up her abdomen.

Her heart slammed hard against her chest and before she could make an attempt to escape from his probing hand, icy-cold lips landed on her neck. Her pulse in her jugular pushed in protest but it was too late. In a matter of seconds that seemed like a lifetime to Gail, her pulse slowed to a stop and her eyes closed soon afterward, sliding to the polished floor as her face drained of all color.

The bustling city sixty feet down masked the snort of disgust as the man trudged back to his bed and resumed his much-needed slumber.

end of Chapter XVII