I stop before the door to our shack, too nervous to open it. I stand, shivering and arguing with myself. I feel silly and worried at the same time. I won’t survive if my mother rejects me.
I finally open the door and walk into the darkness of my home. The floorboards squeak under my feet. My mother sits up on a blanket, looking bewildered.
“Kora?” She stares at me blankly. “Is that you?”
“It’s me.” My voice quivers. “I’m in trouble.”
CHAPTER 16
My mother holds me in her arms, and I feel something softening inside. My tension goes away. I begin crying for the first time since escaping. I attempt to hold back my tears as this is no time to cry and I must be strong. But they flow freely anyway.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry.”
My mother pulls me tighter. She rubs my back and gently runs her fingers through my tangled hair.
“There… there… don’t cry. What’s happened, Kora?”
I press my face into my mother’s shoulder. I don’t know how much I can tell her. How to explain the inexplicable? How to describe what it’s like to witness your best friend being shot in the face while you’re standing at her side?
My mother seems to understand well enough without an explanation.
“You can’t stay here, Kora.” Her expression becomes decisive and her voice firm. “Guards will come looking for you. Your home village will be the first place they check.”
I look up at my mother, my fingers clutching her shirt tightly.
“I’ll leave as soon as you say,” I promise.
She sighs, eyeing my filthy hair, stained clothes and hollowed out face.
“We’ll need to feed and clean you up first,” she says.
Our eyes meet and her gaze is sharp and cold as a razor. I don’t recognize my mother. I lower my head.
“I’ll go now if you want me to,” I say quietly.
“Kora!” My mother hugs me again, stroking my hair with her fingers. I close my eyes, crying even more. She has never been so gentle and loving toward me before. I feel ashamed of having doubts about my mother. “This is your home,” she says. “You may stay here as long as you wish.”
She finally releases me and quickly lights a lamp. I sit on the floor in near total exhaustion, taking a look around. Each board in the floor is familiar to me. The low ceiling, walls askew, the blankets spread in the corner and self-made table seem like home. The home I recently abandoned. My heart aches.
“You look so different.” My mother looks me over closely. “Your skin is so dark now… What are these bruises on your face and neck? What happened to you?”
I close my eyes, feeling Gabriel’s hands wrap around my neck.
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter again. “I had to escape. I had no choice…”
As I’m telling her about the chimeras, Gabriel and my escape, she helps me out of my clothes. She finds a washcloth, draws some water and begins wiping the dirt away. She pours water over my head, scrubbing soap into my scalp. She dries me with an old towel and gives me fresh underwear and a dress. I change, sobbing and explaining how Master Gabriel killed Amy. I watch my mother’s expression, surprised that she doesn’t appear a bit frightened. Her lips pressed tightly together, she boils some corn, finds a few stale crackers and places the food on the table in front of me. At first I believe I can’t swallow a bite but finish the entire meal. I feel a twinge of guilt because my mother now receives only enough food for herself. She’ll have to do without if I eat too much.
A heavy silence falls between us after I’m done telling my story. My mother sits on the floor, her elbows propped up on the table, looking at me thoughtfully.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat. “I’ve failed you so badly. You were right. I should have never left home.”
If I had only stayed in my village, if I only hadn’t taken part in the stupid Exchange… Well, having regrets now won’t do anyone any good.
“You had to leave,” my mother states with a sad smile. “This place… this nasty little village isn’t good enough for you. You’re too willful and broad-minded. You still know how to dream. So I always knew that it was just the matter of time before you finally escaped. I always knew that and was afraid. You remind me of myself so much… when I was much younger.”
I stare back at her, not believing my ears. Her face seems to glow in the dim light. Her back is perfectly straight and she holds her head raised proudly. Who is this woman? I ask myself. I’ve never seen my mother looking this way before. I suppose I’ve never really known her.
“Mom,” I say. “What happened to you when you were young?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” she sighs, gazing away.
“Please tell me,” I beg. “You escaped once too, didn’t you?”
My mother doesn’t answer.
“Please,” I repeat. “I must know.”
A feeling of desperation grows in my chest. I realize I’ve always wanted to know what really happened to my mother. I always felt she had been a much different person long ago. I must learn the truth
