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Twelve
Amethyst
My father had lefttwo feedings ago, so another eight hours had passed, I guessed. But the chill from his words was still there.
He hadn’t told me anything more, and I hadn’t been brave enough to ask. Or, more accurately, didn’t care enough to ask.
He’s not your father.
I whispered that over and over in my brain, though I knew it would take a while to get used to that fact.
But I also recognized how true it was.
He had never been a father to me, and at least now I understood why.
But what I didn’t know was whether it was a good thing that he had told me the truth.
Instincts told me it wasn’t.
He had been far too eager to tell me all of his wrongs. And now, I didn’t have the theoretical bond of a blood relationship to rely on.
Even if he had never cared about me, blood might have meant something.
But I couldn’t rely on that now.
I cuddled Crystal close and breathed in her sweet baby scent, which always calmed me. Then, I changed her and put her down and went to the small kitchenette.
I was exhausted and also hungry.
I didn’t know how long I would be here, but I needed to take care of myself. It was the only way I could take care of her.
I found some crackers, nuts, and a jar of olives. I ate them, not really tasting them, though that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I hadn’t checked the expiration dates, and too late, it occurred to me it was probably a bad idea to eat anything at all.
Too late, though, and I had to admit I felt better after I ate.
Crystal slept peacefully, and I stared at her again, feeling that resolve come back.
Nothing had changed, not really.
Getting her out of here was still the most important thing. And I would do that. No matter what it took.
Fortunately, the room had a dimmer, so I dimmed the lights then lay on the bed.
I didn’t want to sleep but felt myself drifting.
I’d built a barrier as best I could with the pillows and blankets and let myself relax. I kept one hand on Crystal, telling myself I would only doze for a few minutes—
I jolted awake at what sounded suspiciously like an explosion.
I reached for Crystal, who was still sleeping peacefully. I listened again, heard another low concussion, and then grabbed the baby.
I tried to be gentle, and she barely stirred in my arms. I held her close and looked around the room, not sure what to do.
I heard pops that sounded much too much like gunfire and went to the farthest corner of the room.
This corner would provide no protection.
In fact, there was no protection in this room. But I would do what I could.
