Captured (A Modern Medusa Story)

CHAPTER 15: AVERISTA♥️

I pondered Dativa's confession.

I wondered if it's true. That the McQuinns were dangerous. It was sort of an obvious thing but still; I felt the need to confirm.

I had a lot of things going on around my head. My conversation with Phoebe and, most especially, the fact that I shouldn't even be conversing with her.

Her question was still stuck in my head: Was I the one who saved her that night in the alleyway?

I was in loss for words.

I didn't know what to say. I could tell her the truth but . . . if she could pinpoint who I was as easy as that, then she could definitely tell the movements and voices she was hearing weren't normal. Would I have to tell her that I have snakes for hair and half of my body was actually a snake, too? That I had scales, crawled on my belly, and worse, I killed those men with the gaze from my eyes?

I was the monster from ancient history that men fought to kill and thereafter, sought my head for the sake of earning glory and power.

Monster. Demon. Killer.

Three words that described who I was. And if it wasn't because she had no sense of sight, Phoebe would be dead, too. Just like those men in the alleyway.

For a normal person, that was too much information to handle. Not to mention, who would believe such a thing? It sounded like an episode from Supernatural. Better left unsaid if I really cared for my own good.

But then I got sick of making assumptions about the girl's identity, so I got up from my bunk and went straight to the kitchen where Mama was.

I helped her with lunch and kept my mouth shut until we were both sitting and about to take out first bites of the rice and fish we prepared together.

"Mama." I held my spoon tighter than usual. "The girl you're taking care of . . . how is she like?"

Her facial expression portrayed how much my question caught her off guard, much to my dismay. Her movements slowed as she moved her own spoon over her plate and dug in. I kept a straight face, as if I had brought up a regular topic that we talked about every day.

"What do you mean? Is there something about her that you wish to know?"

I fidgeted, unsure how to put it or whether to lie or to be honest. Nothing felt right.

"Nothing, I just met a blind person yesterday, and I remembered that you once mentioned that Phoebe is blind. Just wondering how to communicate with someone with such disabilities. I find it hard."

Mom took in my words, taking a sip of her juice.

"I didn't even think you paid attention to her name when I talked about her."

She didn't even turn when she said that, her eyes fixed on her plate.

Was it important that I knew her name? Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned her name like that. Like I knew her.

Mama looked at me up and down, suspicious as to what the hell I was doing trying to know the details of her boss' daughter. She had made it very clear years ago, right on that day after that fiasco in McQuinn's mansion, that I should never ever dare step into her work stuff, not even to lay a finger, or even think to do so. It was a restriction to breathe the same air as my mom's workplace, a.k.a McQuinn's mansion. That place was taboo. So was Phoebe.

But . . . was it wrong when she looked like that? How could I keep my hands to myself when she made my heart freeze by the mere sight of her dead eyes?

"Please don't take it too seriously, I was just wondering that's all," I kept my eyes down too, afraid to see the expression on my mother's face. "No ulterior motives."