Page 137 of The Auction Block

My breathing quickens, my fear reflected in her eyes. "Nothing. It looks wonderful."

Teresa smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

After dessert, everyone moves around the apartment, enjoying each other's company. I stand against a support pillar watching Dresden, Blake, and his father shoot pool. Sorina is sitting on the sofa with Shannon and Carmen, looking through her sketchbook. Sammi, Hayato, Rhett, and Jameson are playing darts in the corner of the room.

"What happened during dessert?" Vlad asks from behind me.

I turn around, coming face to face with him and Doctor Saladinya.

"It was nothing," I whisper, my chest tightening as the echoed words fill my ears again.

“Lily," Saladinya says in a stern voice.

I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. "I think my mother served me that dessert the night before they sold me."

"You think?" Vlad says, tilting his head to the side.

"I heard her voice in my head, I think. The night she served me that cake."

"Shit," Vlad hisses.

"Yeah," I say meeting his eyes. "I don't want to remember them . . . "

†††

Father's mad, really mad. He's been drinking from the bottle of dark stuff again.

"Don't, please. Just let her be. She's already in bed," Mommy cries.

Mommy.

She'll protect me. She has too.

My bedroom light comes on and I squint, my eyes hurt from the brightness. Father stalks into the room, and I pull the covers over my head. He grabs my ankle and pulls me off the bed and my head hits the floor.

"Father, no, please. I didn't mean to, I swear!"

He doesn't bother pulling the blanket off. His slaps hurt anyway. I knew better than to try and steal food, but we haven't had any in days. The baby was hungry . . . I was hungry. Even Mommy was complaining she was hungry.

"How stupid can you be, Mihnea? Huh?" he yells, slapping me harder and harder.

I cry, trying to cover my face. I hate walking around with bruises. People in the village look at me funny.

The blanket comes flying off, and I curl into a ball.

"I'm sorry, Father, please," I beg between sobs.

Nothing happens, but I can hear his breathing close to me. I peak from under my arms, and he's staring at me, tears running down his face. He moves quickly, reaching for me and I whimper, trying to shield myself.

I'm lifted off the ground, and he cuddles me to his chest as he sinks to the floor, rocking gently back and forth.

"Why do you make me do this, Mihnea?"

"I'm sorry, Father. I won't do it again, I promise."

"Shh, it's okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper. You know I love you."

Father does love me, but that's never stopped him from hurting me. I stay quiet. I try to be good, really, I do. But I make Father angry . . . a lot.