Page 41 of My Little Doe
“I don’t think I’ve had them, but I’ll try it,” I said.
“They’re different but good.”
I watched the fire crackling in the fireplace, something he must have started while I was sleeping.
“How long was I out?”
“Several hours. I reckon you needed it,” he said, his southern twang slipping through his words.
“Were you raised here?”
“Umm, it’s complicated.”
“We have all the time and nowhere to be,” I told him.
Sizzling and popping continued as he stirred and flipped the food around.
“My grandfather—my father’s father—once was the Novo. My father moved here and met my mother. They married and had us three children, myself, Calliope—”
“Wait, that’s your sister?”
“Yeah… not my… girlfriend,” he said.
“Hmm… oops,” I said.
“Anyway, and my younger brother. You met him. He came to the cell one time with Ravik. Always the ass kisser. We lived in this area until I was about 12, and then my grandfather passed away, and my father dragged us to Tennessee. He and Ravik fought over everything. Who was to lead the family, who was to inherit personal belongings? Typical siblings—”
“Ravik is your uncle!” I shouted.
“I don’t claim him, but technically.”
“Wait, that means your dad was—”
“White… yes. I’m the lightest one, looking mostly like my dad, except my hair and my eyes,” he said.
He grabbed plates out of an upper cabinet and scooped food onto each plate. He carried them to the small circular table, placing them down. I stood up and moved to the table tojoin him.
“Long story short, Ravik had my father killed. You see, it's the oldest son who is supposed to take the reins when it’s time. I never really wanted it, until the opportunity was taken from me,” he said.
“Where’s your mom?”
“She didn’t handle losing my father really well. She became very depressed, stopped eating, and her heart gave out. She died two years later,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said.
“You say sorry a lot for things that aren’t your fault,” he said.
“Habit, I guess.”
The chicken, fried potatoes, and even the greens were delicious. I glanced at Quinnlyn. Part of me hated him, reliving every memory of him holding me hostage. The other part knew he saved my life.
Chapter 14
Once I finished with supper, I retired to the bedroom. Neither of us said much more. Both of us had things that needed to be said. My body was sore and tired, but the nap earlier in the day did wonders. As I laid in bed, my mind drifted to the baby. Each night when I laid down, that was when he was most active—kicking, punching, and rolling all around. I started crying silently. I refused to let it turn into sobs.
The following morning, food dragged me from my sleep. I wasn’t hungry, though. Instead of getting up, I remained lying in the bed staring at the wall. Sadness pressed down on me. I didn’t think I even had tears left. I didn't know what to do or whatIeven could do.
Two knocks on the door. I didn’t respond. I wanted to, but nothing came out. Two more knocks.
