Page 58 of Speak No Claim

My gaze shifted to her. “I thought you said you were my friend?”

“I am, and this is why you should go home.”

I searched her face, looking for answers she refused to submit. Instead, all I found was submission.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Her lips parted. No words came out. Her silence was enough of an answer for me.

I humorlessly laughed. “You’re unbelievable. You’re as bad as your brother. It shouldn’t surprise me, though. You’re family after all.”

I backed away and left.

Time must’ve been moving fast. The next thing I knew, I was in my uncle’s kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. I shut the door, gasping with my hand over my heart when I saw my uncle standing there, all unreadable in the darkness.

Watching me.

“Jesus… how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Last time I checked, this was my home.”

“This isn’t a home. It’s a prison.”

He didn’t pay me any mind. Instead, his stare traveled to the wound on my arm. “Deja isn’t a doctor, Hennessy. I’m home to let the real physician in. He’s going to look at your arm.”

“Great,” I spat. “Maybe then someone will actually believe what happened to me tonight.”

“It doesn’t matter what you tell him. He’s not on your side.”

“And you are?”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t. I wouldn’t have raised hell to get you into the Graves Academy if I wasn’t.”

“Funny, everyone said it was my grades alone that allowed me to be here. Is that a lie?”

“There’s only so much I can do, Hennessy. Do you understand that?”

I snapped, “Do or say?”

“Is there a difference? I’ve been preparing for your arrival for years.”

“Years? No fastidies,” I sneered. “Don’t irritate me.” Gathering my sanity, I didn’t resist what I’d been holding in since I moved in, if you could even call it that. “Now that’s a bag of bullshit, and you know it! You want me here, you say? You’ve been preparing for me? That’s why there’s no Peruvian food here for me, I don’t see any lomo being made or ceviche, no anticuchos, no pollo a la brasa, nada!” I screamed all my favorite cuisines. “No juane or yuca, no tamales or Sublimes, King Kongs or alfajores! There isn’t shit for me to eat here! There’s also nothing to drink but water! Not even a damn Inca Kola! There’s no family or community, no dinners or breakfasts together! Nothing! I’m just alone! Why did you bring me here for me to be lonely all the time? I have no friends! None of my plants or animals! It’s just these walls that hold more secrets than the fucking Vatican!”

“Niña, no me hables así. En esta casa me respetas. ¿Entendido?”

“Right now, I’ll talk to you any way I damn well please! Where is my respect? You don’t want me here, and I just want to hear you admit it! All you wanted was to get back in our family’s good graces. You’re using me, but that’s just the beginning. There’s so much more I don’t know, and no one will tell me!”

“Hennessy—”

“Look at my arm, Tío! Look at what happened to me tonight! I was hunted through the woods like a witch on trial! And then, a man didn’t burn me at the stake. No, he smeared our blood together in some sick demonic ritual, and you’re not batting an eye about it! Is that why I need to see your doctor?”

He didn’t get to react. The doorbell rang, loud and clear, interrupting us. He turned to answer it, but at the last second, he reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out my grandmother's protection bracelet. Except it wasn’t broken anymore. It was perfectly intact as he handed it to me.

“Did you fix this? It snapped in half.”