Secrets (a MPHFPC Fanfic)

My Side: Alma

The days were blurs, full of worry. I fought through the haze of pain and drugs as best as I could. At times, I couldn't tell night to day.

I was always conscious when I was with Euphora, but I was never in good condition. I could tell it scared her, the way my brother was able to hurt us without remorse. Whenever I could, I shared with her a look that I hoped projected strength. If we made it through this, it would be a great accomplishment.

Euphora seemed to be studying me lately, like she was trying to shove her way into my head. Maybe she was. All I knew was that, if we made it, I wouldn't hide her anymore.

She was too valuable. And in truth, I had missed her. I had left her with a friend, visiting occasionally, but never being a true mother to her. I felt like I had missed her whole childhood. I was more a mother to my wards than to my own daughter.

I was ashamed to admit to anyone that I had broken part of an Ymbryne's vow. To never have a child. But we had wanted one so bad, Mark and I. But Mark had died before I gave birth to Euphora and I was lost. My husband, the only person I was able to legally keep close, had died, leaving me to care for an illegal baby. And the only reason I had been allowed to marry was because the Council of Ymbrynes gave exclusive permission. I was the first one.

So I had pushed Euphora off into the arms of a close friend, leaving to mourn and continue with my work.

How blinded had I been? I could have dealt with it. I could have convinced the council to change the rules. And if they wouldn't, I could have done many things.

The days passed and I had lot's of time to wonder, What could I have done?

Caul noticed and took to taking me into another room, alone. But instead of beating me, he talked. He talked about his life, some of it shared with me. The way he talked was one of the most sickening sounds. He talked of murdering our parents, a useless Myron, and, of course, me. The academy and how stuck-up we were.

I also took to listening to the guards. Perhaps they would give me some information. Something about my wards, something about a security risk, something. But the guards were very careful with their words.

Thus was the way we stumbled through the days, weeks, and months.