Page 857 of Lessons in Cruelty

Is she hemorrhaging?

No…wait, it’s just her period. And judging from the shock on her face, this is her first menstrual cycle ever.

Despite what Evelyn thinks, her children aren’t dimwits. And since we have nothing better to do all day, we read.

We read a lot.

“Jeez, okay,” I blurt out like an idiot. “Look, uh, just—don’t panic, okay. I’m gonna⁠—“

“Does it look like I’m panicking?” Billy grits out.

“It kinda does.”

Her eyes flicker, then her gaze drops. “Okay, fine. I’m panicking.” She reaches for the toilet paper, then hesitates. “Can you get me…if you don’t mind…in my top drawer⁠—“

“Got it.” I back out of the bathroom and head over to the chest of drawers, opening Sybil’s side and grabbing a pair of panties. I go back inside the bathroom, staring as she wipes at her legs with some wadded-up tissue.

She pauses, then looks up at me with haunted green eyes. “You have to call The Witch,” she murmurs.

“Shit.” I hesitate, and I hate myself for it. “Now, though?”

Sybil looks away, pursing her lips. “We can hide this, or we can risk disturbing her.” Her eyes swivel back up to me. “In your professional opinion, brother, which would make her angrier?”

Chapter 49

Bastian

I go downstairs to call Evelyn, and then follow at a distance as our mother goes up the stairs. She closes the bedroom door in my face when I try to follow her inside, and even with my ear to the wood, I can’t hear what they’re talking about in our bathroom.

They come out of our room a minute later, a towel wrapped around Sybil’s waist. I brace myself, fully expecting The Witch to drag my sister down to The Bad Place.

Evelyn takes her upstairs to her bedroom.

Somehow, that’s worse.

I tell myself everything’s okay…but I find myself pressed to the door, peering through the keyhole all of ten minutes later.

Evelyn is brushing Sybil’s hair.

My sister sits rigid on the vanity stool, staring at her own reflection.

She looks terrified.

“You must track your cycle on a calendar so you can prepare for it in advance,” Evelyn is saying, working through a tangle with a harsh tug that makes Billy wince.

“Is it supposed to hurt this much?”

Evelyn steps back, gesturing for Sybil to stand. That’s the first time I realize she’s wearing a dress…and it’s not one of hers. It’s dove gray and fits Billy well enough—everywhere except the chest.

“The pain comes and goes,” Evelyn says. “Some months are better than others. You’ll get used to it.”

“It hurts a lot.” Sybil winces, her hands sliding over her stomach. “May I have some ibuprofen, or⁠—”

“You’ll develop ulcers if you take painkillers on an empty stomach.”

Sybil is silent for a beat. “Then how about you feed me for a change, Mother?”

I look away when Evelyn’s hand shoots out, but I can still hear the slap ringing in my ears.