Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Mirah placed down a card that skipped my turn, following up with an "uno reverse", and finishing her turn with a regular red "7". I pursed my lips, envious that she was good enough at this game to be able to put down three cards in one go. But this time, I was prepared, and I smugly set down a "+4" card, smirking at Mirah as she drew four cards, grumbling all the while. 

We were silent while we took our next few turns, but after Mirah quietly set down a "wild card" without choosing the next color, I paused, realizing something was on her mind. 

The moment that I looked up at her curiously, she blinked out of her stupor, mumbling, "Oh, sorry. Blue." 

I frowned, concern replacing my curiosity. We'd already been playing blue cards for the past three turns. 

Choosing not to comment on her color choice, I took my turn, setting down a blue "2" before asking, "What's up?" 

"Hmm?" Mirah asked distractedly as she searched her cards for one to use next. 

"There's something wrong," I responded, watching her closely. It wasn't a question; it was an observation. If I'd worded it as a question, she might have lied and told me everything was fine. 

"No, I'm just focused," she answered easily, finally choosing a green "2". I frowned. If she'd used up her "wild card" to choose blue, why would she switch up the color on her next turn? 

"I can't have you winning a second time. Of course, that first win was only beginner's luck —" 

"Stop evading the question," I interrupted, taking my turn without thinking much about the card I was setting down. "I'm not stupid, Mir." 

Mirah pressed her lips together, fixing her sea-blue gaze on me. We stared each other down for a moment, her expression contemplative while mine was expectant, before Mirah finally sighed. She looked back at her cards, taking her turn absently, seeming as though she'd placed a card down at random. 

"How much longer do you think this will go on?" she asked, and although we'd been playing this round for a good ten minutes, I knew she wasn't talking about Uno. 

"I don't know," I answered honestly, setting down the only green card I had. "To be honest, it sort of seems like a losing battle." 

Mirah frowned down at her cards. "Don't say that." 

"Everyone's thinking it." 

"There's hope!" Mirah argued determinedly, her eyes glimmering — not with the hope she declared, but with tears. "There has to be..." 

I watched her over my cards, unsure of what to say. I didn't want to feed into her innocent hope, in case it made her falsely believe that everything could go back to normal. But I also didn't want to crush her hopes and drag her into the bottomless pit of dread that I lived in constantly. She wasn't dating a Death Eater, so of course she didn't know the details about what was really happening, but did I really want to enlighten her? 

No, it was better to keep her in the dark, so she could keep her eye on the brighter side. 

"As long as there are people who are willing to fight, there's hope," I told her, averting my gaze back to my cards so she wouldn't see the doubt in my eyes. "If people continue to stand up against You-Know-Who, he'll never have full control." 

Mirah was quiet for a long time, but I didn't dare look up at her. "People like Harry Potter, you mean?" 

Abandoning my pretenses, I glanced up at Mirah, but she wasn't looking at me. She was frowning at her hands, which she'd dropped into her lap.