Someone knocks on the door.
“Ignore them,” I say.
Her panic swirls into restlessness.
“They’re probably looking for me.”
“I’m sure they are. They might be looking for me, too, but I need to know what this is before I step into chaos.”
Slowly uncrossing my arms, I walk to the door, pick up a key from the wall table, and twist it in the lock.
As the person knocks again, I bark through the locked door, “Go away.”
Whoever is on the other side paces away.
I take it it’s not a good sign. They’ll probably come back with reinforcements. I expect Sylvia to knock at the door next.
I spin around.
“Yes, or no, darling. It’s not that hard,” I say, dropping the key on the chair.
“They need to marry me off because the family is in trouble,” I say, not looking at her.
Her silence swirls around the room like a startled bat, his wings flapping, dipped in dread.
“Yes or no?”
She ponders.
“Nona?”
“No.”
I study her face.
She’s hiding something, and maybe a yes-or-no answer doesn’t truly reflect the reality of this.
“Is my family in immediate danger?” I ask again.
“No.”
Her answer is prompt and feels sincere.
“Is there a rising danger in our world?”
She nods.
“Say it out loud.”
She tilts her head again.
“I don’t get it,’ I say. “Why is it so hard to talk to me?”
Her eyes sparkle with a shred of encouragement as if I’m close to learning a few new things.
“You’re hinting at how you got the information,” I say, prompted by a hunch.
She slides her chin down again.
