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“Kids, this is Whitley,” my mother says, already opening her door, her foot on the stones. I stare around her at the house that looms over her shoulder.
It’s imposing and grand, ominous and beautiful, dark and bright.
All at once.
It’s many things, but mostly, it’s intimidating.
As is the tiny woman waiting to embrace my mother.
She stands in the front doorway, like a little bird. She’s got dark skin and a bright scarf wrapped around her hair, and dark eyes that gleam, eyes that seem to see right through me. I shiver from her gaze, and she smiles crookedly, like she knows. Like she knows all about me, like she knows everything about everything.
She’s introduced as Sabine, although my mother calls her Sabby. Like mom knows her oh-so-well, even though I’ve never heard her name before today. All of this makes no sense at all, and I wonder if Finn is as confused and overwhelmed as I am.
He doesn’t seem to be as he shakes Sabine’s hand. He smiles seriously at her, saying politely, “It’s nice to meet you.”
It’s my turn next and Sabine stares through me, like she’s reading my thoughts, her dark eyes drilling into mine.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I murmur obligatorily, like I’ve been taught.
Her mouth turns up at the corners, her wrinkled hand curled like a claw around my own. Her skin is cold, like ice, and I shiver again. She smiles in response and something puts me on edge, the hair standing up at my neck, and every vertebra in my spine straightens.
“The die has been cast, I see,” she says quietly, almost to herself, and I’m the only one who can hear.
“What?” I ask in confusion, because her words ma
ke no sense. But she shakes her scarf-clad head.
“Don’t trouble yourself, child,” she tells me firmly. “It should be of no worry to you right now.”
But it is, because her words stay with me.
She leads us to our bedrooms and on the way, she turns to me.
“You will listen to me while you are here,” she tells me, and her voice is matter-of-fact, as though I’d never dream of arguing. I open my mouth, but her steely gaze closes it for me. “I will provide you with medicines and methods to control your…illness. I have your best interest at heart, always. And the best interest of this family. You will trust me.”
It’s a directive, not a question. She pauses at Finn’s door and allows him to enter, before we continue on to mine.
Outside of the large wooden door, she turns to me. “If you need anything, let me know.”
She leaves me alone and the room is cavernous.
“The die has been cast,” I repeat to myself as I stare at my suitcase. It’s waiting for me to unpack it, but my bedroom is too large to feel comfortable, and all I want to do is go home, away from this strange place with their strange words and ways.
“What did you say?” Finn asks from the doorway. He’s staring at me, waiting for my answer as he comes in and looks around my room.
“I like mine better,” he continues, without waiting for an answer.
I haven’t seen his yet, so I can’t argue, although I’m just happy that he didn’t ask me again what I’d said. The words don’t make any sense, and I don’t need for him to tell me that.
The die has been cast.
What does that mean?
Finn bounces across the room and tumbles into the blue velvet chair by the window. He squeaks the springs in the cushion, and stares out the giant windows.
“This place is huge,” he says, as if that isn’t obvious. “And Sabine told me that we get to have a dog.”
This perks my ears up. Because we can’t have a dog back home. Dad is allergic.
