Chapter 4
SAVANNA (VERONICA)
"Can you walk?" Veronica's mother's voice made me look up as I rose to my feet. Although Veronica's body wasn't anything I was used to, it was still workable.
"Yes." I mumbled slowly.
Thankfully, I'd been discharged. I couldn't wait to leave this place. I had lots of work to do.
"Good." Her lips curved softly.
In Veronica's memory, her mother was the epitome of fragility. However, she never hated her mother, as there were evenings when her mother would sit by her bedside and seek forgiveness for her perceived weakness and vulnerability in the face of her father.
Veronica would pretend to be asleep while her pillow got soaked with tears.
Suddenly, something raw and painful clenched my soul— an emotion I had never been familiar with... Regret.
Veronica must have been very used to this particular emotion. She had never said out loud, but she always dreamed to be independent and take her mother and brother out of that hell and live somewhere happily.
She must have regretted this so much at the time of death, yet she couldn't do anything.
I swallowed hard, my fists clenching tight beside me. 'Don't worry Mom, Veronica perhaps couldn't do it, but I'll make sure her dream comes true.'
'Mom' the word felt extremely foreign on my tongue, but there was a warmth— something I had never felt before.
"V-vero" Ethan spoke softly, coming to my side, "y-you, d-don't leave us ag-gain."
Although the words sounded simple, his tone couldn't hide the fear in it. The helplessness in the cruelty of loss.
Which again something I had never known, yet strangely felt so warm.
He held my hand then and added, "N-next time... I'll p-protect you."
Protect me?— I stared at the little boy.
This fragile boy with trembling words, wanted to protect me?
Even though it felt too ridiculous, I couldn't help feeling a strange warmth within me.
I pulled him into my arms. "I promise to not leave again," I said, pressing my forehead lightly against his.
And for some reason, I meant it.
"Hurry up." She picked up her bag from the table, "we must return home before your father arrives."
The quiet fear in her tone had set the meaning very clearly. And that evoked some of the memories— very painful ones, which only hardened my heart more.
"Mom, you and Ethan go out first, I'll be catching you soon." Although the word 'mom' was too new and foreign to me, I was trying to used to it.
"Where are you going?"
"Washroom." And I turned hurriedly, without letting her notice the cold twitch against my lips.
This was revenge time, wasn't it? Then why not start it from home? ...
That night, we returned home with no more drama. And mom immediately set herself into the kitchen, preparing dinner as though she was trying to stitch our broken home back together with some delicious foods.
The little kitchen smelled like meatloaf baking in the oven, mixed with the warm scent of butter melting into mashed potatoes. Between the narrow counters, mom moved quickly and nervously, glancing at the door every few minutes.
"Eat quickly," she urged once the dishes were served. "Your father might come back." Her tone shook even at the mention of 'that man'.
"He won't." I muttered calmly, pulling the plate toward me.
She paused, then blinked. "How do you know?"
I lowered my gaze to the food.
'Because before leaving the hospital, I tipped off the debt collectors that he finally had money to repay them.'
'So, he won't be back tonight. He would be busy running.'
"Just a feeling," I muttered without looking at her.
Mom didn't question it. Maybe she was too tired.
We ate quietly, but through Veronica's memory it was a rare event.
The food was simple— a thick slice of homemade meatloaf, mashed potatoes with a little gravy, and some steamed vegetables on the side—but at that moment, it felt like a warm feast...
After the quiet, satisfying dinner, Ethan limped to the small folding desk in the corner and pulled out a workbook.
"V-vero," he called hesitantly. "T-There's a m-math I c-can't do."
I walked over, taking a look at it.
The question was part of a competition worksheet— it was logic-based, slightly tricky for someone his age.
For me though, it was an elementary level task.
"Well, look at this..." I explained the pattern, guiding him step by step. He followed my reasoning carefully, eyes widening as the solution came to his understanding.
When he finished writing the final solution, he stared at me in awe. "Th-that's ss-so cool! Wh-hen did you g-get so sma-art?"
I smiled faintly. "Perhaps, just now?" I ruffled his hair, making him giggle.
As we talked, through the corner of my eyes, I saw Veronica's mom watching us. Her lips were curved against her tired face. Perhaps enjoying the bond of brother and sister without any barrier.
'Don't worry, Veronica's mom. Next time you look at us like that, it'll be in a bigger house. A safer one. Where, these events wouldn't be 'once in a while' anymore. I'll take both of you out of this disgusting place...'
