The Midnight Lie (The Midnight Lie #1)(84)

Rage snaked across her face. “You are a wicked, deceitful girl.”

“Then don’t cross me, or I will cross you. I am not who I was. You expect that as soon as you threaten me, I will do what you want. No more.”

“It’s true,” she said after a careful pause. “You are not who you were. But tell me, my lamb: Who are you, really? Little Nirrim, come from nowhere. Another orphan left to dirty herself in the box. No one special. But I know where you come from. I know just how special you are.”

My heart kicked against my ribs. “What do you mean?”

“You have changed, I can see that. But would the girl I raised truly betray her kin? No, she would do anything for her family. I suppose I won’t denounce you, even if you deserve it. After all, you are my own flesh and blood.”

I stared.

“I named you,” she said. “I pinned your name to your swaddling clothes. I placed you in the orphanage box.”

“You … are my mother?”

“Such a little lamb! So eager for mother’s milk! Me, your mother? Wouldn’t you love it if it were true. Your mother is dead, girl, and you killed her.”

“You must tell me what you mean.”

“Oh, must I? Do I have something you want now? Let’s make a bargain, my lostling. I will tell you the beginning of a story, and you will tell its end.” She withdrew the gold necklace that had been tucked into her dress. From its frail chain dangled a crescent moon carved from a pale jewel that shone even though no light was near, even though the windows had darkened.

My bones felt tightly knit, my arms crossed over my chest as though I were again in the baby box, my body swaddled, the scrap of paper that must have been pinned to me while I slept quivering under my breath. Babies see badly at first, their vision blurry. They can see only what is right in front of them. I remembered that necklace wavering in and out of focus when my mother nursed me.

“Where did you get that?” I demanded.

“From my younger sister, my joy. You look like her, though she was far more beautiful. She never recovered after she gave birth to you. You drained the life from her. Yet she made me promise to take care of you, and so I did.”

Shock settled over me like a heavy cloth. “You abandoned me.”

“Oh, come. It’s not as if I exposed you to the elements to starve. I left you in good care at the orphanage. They fed and clothed you. I kept my promise. And I continued to keep it. I was informed on your progress through the years. When the headmistress said you had a gift for writing and art, I knew I had been right when I named you after a cloud that predicts good fortune. You certainly made mine! I came to the orphanage to reclaim you. I took you in. Now I am giving you everything you could ask for. And what do you do? You spurn me. Me, your aunt, your only living relation, who has always taken care of you.”

My eyes stung. “You let me believe that I was alone. That I had no one.”

“You had me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Did you deserve it? Wouldn’t my sister be alive today, had you not come tearing out of her, killing her with your greedy little life? If she hadn’t given birth to you, she would still be mine.”

“It is not my fault I have no mother. You have been punishing me for my own loss.”

“I warned her,” Raven said, looking not at me, but into the past. “I told her she would regret her dalliance. But no. She would have her way. If people would only listen to me, everyone would be better off.”

“Who was he? Who was my father?”

“Nirrim, it is time to uphold your bargain. You have some moral horror, it seems, at helping me build my business. But won’t you, dear girl, do it for your family, now that you know who I am?”

“I always loved you. I always thought of you as family.” Tears spilled onto my cheeks.

“Now, don’t cry. There is no need. Why, I love you, too!”

I pulled away from her. The pearl necklace felt like a thin snake around my throat. I snapped it beneath my twisting grasp. Beads sprinkled the floor.

“How dare you,” Raven said. “After all I’ve done for you.”

I made for the stairs.

“Don’t you leave me,” she called. “If you do, you will never see me again.”

My feet gained speed, rattling down each step. I heard her following behind me.

“You will never know anything more about your mother. How you were born. Who you are! You will be nothing to me. Is that what you want?”

Yes, I thought, and shoved my way out the front door.



* * *



The sun had set when I returned to Sid’s home on the hill, and although I had mastered my tears, when I saw her sitting on the steps and how her face eased into gladness to see me, they came rushing back.

“What is it?” She drew me down to sit beside her. Duskwings flurried in the sky like black confetti. I buried my wet face against her. “Tell me,” she said, and I felt the words vibrate through her. “Tell me who has made you like this, and I will kill them.”

I laughed a little, the sound garbled by a sob, because of course Sid would try to lighten the situation by saying something extreme and obviously not meant. But then I pulled away from her to wipe my eyes and saw her hardened face. Her black eyes were cold with fury. “Say that you want me to,” she said.