You call this fate?

Chapter 47

“You know nothing, Rodwell. Now don’t get on my nerves.” I was rapidly losing patience, pretending not to notice the girls inching away from us, identical looks of horror on their faces.

He looked like he would argue a bit more but then, on noticing my expression, opened his mouth and let me put the spoon in.

He closed his lips and swallowed. Then gagged.

“What in hell’s name is that?” he asked, opening his mouth and shaking his head as if to loosen the taste from his tongue.

I lowered the spoon and stepped back. Damn.

Twirling around with as much dignity as I could muster, I walked back to the kitchen, feeling my face blaze up. “Nothing. One of my meaner attempts, apparently.”

“Meaner?” he asked, incredulous. “You could bottle that thing as a biochemical weapon! How did you even manage to make something that foul?” Pause. Then, “Wait, what have you guys been eating all this time?”

Since we had been in his house, Clara had made sure to send something, or Granny had manned the kitchen, thus making it unnecessary for me to step into that hellhole of every house and embarrass myself.

Guess I should have continued staying away, I thought. Now he knew this about me too. I almost groaned.

It was on reaching the kitchen and placing the spoon in the sink that I became aware of the conversation happening in fiery whispers between Ella and Hannah.

“You ask.”

“No, you ask.”

“I ask all the time. I do everything. You ask. She’ll listen to you.”

“No, she won’t. She will listen to you. You ask.”

I turned around to find them both plastered against the back wall, Ella with her finger on Hannah’s chest as she said once again: “I told you, you ask.”

Sparing a curious glance for Alex—who smiled, to my surprise—I cleared my throat to get their attention. Their heads snapped around. “Alright. What is going on?”

Both of them descended into silence, looking at the other. Ella shook her head and lowered her head, adamant on not being the one to say it. Hannah was at a loss. She twisted a finger in the hem of her shirt, looking at every face in the room in turn.

“Hannah,” I said, growing impatient. “Speak up. What is it?”

Feeling my attention fixed on her—for I knew she was the softer target here—the girl bit her lip. Ella, judging the situation dire but still ready to sacrifice Hannah, pushed the other girl’s shoulder in encouragement. Hannah took a deep breath and forced herself to meet my eyes. “We—“ she cleared her throat, “—that is, Alex—he is taking us to the carnival tomorrow,” she finished in a rush, her eyes wide. “We went with Tasha, but that was ages ago! Can we go again?”

I stared at them. A dull throbbing started in my head.

“Alex, what is this?” I asked.

There must have been something curious in my voice for his previously smug smile dulled. He adjusted his grip on the crutches, letting his body lean back against a side table. “You heard the girl. They want to go to the carnival. And,” he risked a smile, eyes still doubtful, “since I am the most free here right now, I agreed to take them.”

I swallowed. For a long moment it seemed enough air would not fill my lungs.

I made myself look at Ella and Hannah’s expectant faces, their eyes too-bright and too-big, their heads leaning forward as if to urge me on. “Girls, will you please get Granny from her room and go down for a moment? I need to have a word with Alex.”