“What? No,” he said a little too quickly.
She scoffed. “I did not take you for a liar.”
“I am not lying!”
“You are.” She held his hand and looked right at him. “Now, tell me what is wrong. Something clearly is, and while I want to be angry at you for lying to me, I’m worried, Henry.” She softened her expression. “Please, if something is the matter… You know you can tell me.”
Henry was a good boy and rarely did he disobey or argue with Octavia. She might have been his sister, but she treated him more as a mother might a son, and he knew how much he needed her, as she needed him.
“I… I don’t…” His chin began to wobble. “Something happened last night, Octavia.” He looked at her, and there was fear in his eyes. “I do not know… I think I am dying.”
Her stomach dropped. “What? What happened?”
He bit into his lips, he cowered back, and then he slowly opened his mouth so that she could see inside. “You see it?” he spoke with an open mouth. “My teeth. They’re falling out.”
Octavia saw the missing tooth deep in the back of his mouth. She frowned when she realized what was wrong, she considered her reaction, and then she burst into laughter.
“What?” Henry demanded. “It’s not funny!”
“I am sorry,” she said, still laughing. “I did not mean to… I am not making fun of you.”
“I’m sick!” He scrunched his face. “Why are you laughing?”
“Oh, Henry.” Octavia stood up, walked around the table, and wrapped her arms around her little brother. “You are not sick, nor are you dying.”
“Then why are my teeth –”
“It happens to everyone,” she cut him off gently, giving his little body a squeeze to show how much she loved him. “At your age, everyone loses their teeth.”
“You didn’t,” he demanded. “You have all your teeth!”
“They grow back,” she said as she let go and stood back up. “This is something to celebrate, Henry. It means you are growing up…” Her throat tightened suddenly, and she sniffed back a random tear. “You are becoming a man.”
“R… really?”
“Yes,” she said. “Your body is going to change a lot over the coming years, Henry. Some of it is good, some of it is bad.” She laughed at the notion. “But it is perfectly natural.”
“A man…” His brow furrowed as he considered and then beamed. “I’m turning into a man.”
“Not yet,” she said, suddenly serious. “And if you are, real men wash up after they eat. And real men do not need to be told twice.”
Desperate to prove to his sister that he was turning into a man, Henry leapt from his seat and sprinted from the room. She watched him go, a smile on her lips, her heart full inside her chest.
So much has changed this past week… and so much is changing every day. My brother is growing up, I have a job that I am starting to love, and it feels finally like our life is set on a path that might give us what we both deserve: hope for the future.
It was a simple sentiment, but it put Octavia in good spirits; spirits that she hung onto as she wandered from the breakfast room, ready for a another full day, one to look forward to, and certainly not the last.
Chapter Twelve
Evander stood before his painting, arms folded, expression discerning and filled with judgment.
When Evander started a new project, he never knew what might come from it. He did not plan. He did not consider. He simply painted, using the canvas to express his thoughts and his feelings in ways that he never could do out loud… or even to himself.
It was his therapy, and the paintings that hung on the walls of his studio presented a tapestry of his life thus far. Most of it were dark, twisted images that told of a monster hungry for pain and misery and sorrow. But some of it, those rare pieces that he dared to complete, showed a different side.
He turned slightly, catching sight of one such piece.
It hung in the very corner, out of the way so that most would miss it if they were not looking. It was a painting of a family, nothis own, out for a walk through the park. The sun shone bright. The grass under their feet was green. And their faces wore happy smiles such that when he had painted it, Evander had imagined laughter filling the air.