Ridiculousness.
She ran her own business for goodness’ sake. And climbed walls. And picked locks. He shook his head, half in disbelief, half in anger. How could she not see? How could she not know? And how had no one made her understand? How hadhenot made that clear?
Not that she would listen if he said all that out loud. No, best to take a different tack. He wagged a finger at her. “You seem to question my judgment quite a bit. Especially for someone who keeps losing bets to me.”
“I didn’t lose,” she snapped before taking a long, deep breath, as if fortifying herself. “I didn’t tell you the other night, but I suppose I should now.” Her fear was visible. “I killed my parents.”
Stifling the questions and reassurances he wanted to offer her, Sol knit his fingers, forcing himself to listen and think, not act.
“No, I have not been informed of their demise, but we’ve received no letters in twelve years and so manypeople don’t survive the voyage across the sea.” She pressed her knuckles to her lips and held them there. “And I know you believe the papers didn’t have the whole story, but the truth, the true story, the reason they are there—the reason they are no longer with us—is that I was selfish, and deluded, and above all, couldn’t control my fucking temper.” She stroked her ear. “A gentile came to the shop. One from a good family. He was desperate and equally angry at himself and he, well…”
Sol stared at her. “He didn’t—”
“He railed about the indignity of needing to go to the ‘Jews,’ which is common,” she explained, caught in the memory. “But then he, well—I never was a beauty—no matter how desperately I wanted to be one and worked so hard at it. I begged my parents for the money to buy what didn’t come naturally—but I still knew the truth. There was a man—a boy, really—one who I thought cared for me, before I realized he was only willing to spend time with me in the dark, if you get my meaning. But in the light…” She pursed her lips. “The week before, well, everything, he’d announced his betrothal to one of the community’s darlings. And so, when that gentile said… well, while my hair is certainly not greasy, my eyes are deeply set and my nose is anything but small, and he was correct that the most pleasing thing about my appearance is my bosom. The truth is his words, that day, cut past all my training, all my defenses. I knew how I was supposed to behave, how I was supposed to always be calm, always deferential—how my safety depended on it. I knew my family’s safety depended on it.Allour safety depended on it.”
There was a pause, and she bit her lip. “But when he asked if men put a sack over my head when we—”
And he could not stay where he was. Could not leave her alone any longer. “Hannah,” he whispered as he stepped forward.
She held up a hand to halt his progress. “I mocked him. Asked him how, if he was so much better than me, did he end up the one begging, not the other way around.” A small, sad half smile flickered over her lips. “And then I raised the rates and told him he could try another shop if he thought he could do better.”
“I suppose he didn’t?” Sol asked, even though he knew the answer, knew how the story would end. And what one bought of temper had cost her.
“No, he did not.” She shook her head. “And my parents died for it.” Her mouth set in a hard line. “I know who I am.” She stabbed a finger against her chest. “My place in the world. My character. My desirability. And its limits. Especially to someone like you.” Hannah’s nostrils flared, her voice shaking.
“The hell you do,” he said. And before she could say anything else, he took her mouth in his.
