Chapter 6

Citlali's POV

I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, my face burning with humiliation and anger, dirt and grass stuck to my palms and knees, my dress—already threadbare and patched—now torn at the hem.

The rabbit was long gone, my one chance at a real meal vanished because of them, and the frustration of it made my hands curl into fists against the ground.

"You made me lose it," I snapped, climbing to my feet and brushing uselessly at my filthy dress, knowing even as I did it that it was pointless. I was always dirty. Always had been, always would be. "I almost had it!"

They continued to stare at me for another beat, their expressions shifting from shock to something else—something that made my skin prickle with warning.

Then Thomas started to laugh.

Not a chuckle or a giggle, but a full-bellied guffaw that doubled him over, and within seconds the others had joined in, their laughter ringing through the trees like bells, high and cruel and utterly delighted.

"Did you—" Mara gasped between peals of laughter, clutching her brother's arm for support. "Did you see her?"

"She was crawling on the ground!" Meakar managed, his face red with mirth. "Like some kind of—of—"

"Like a lizard!" Thomas crowed, straightening up and pointing at me with one hand while he held his stomach with the other. "That's what you looked like! A dirty little lizard scuttling through the grass!"

The others dissolved into fresh fits of laughter, the sound of it scraping against my ears like nails on wood. Elara was actually crying, tears streaming down her perfect porcelain cheeks, her shoulders shaking.

One of the boys I didn't know was laughing so hard he'd fallen to his knees.

The anger in my chest flared hot and immediate, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth ached, my nails digging into my palms hard enough to leave marks.

I wanted to scream at them, wanted to launch myself at their smug, well-fed faces and claw that laughter right out of their throats. Wanted to make them hurt the way I hurt every single day, wanted to see fear replace that mocking amusement in their eyes.

But there were six of them and one of me, and I'd learned that lesson already. Fighting back when you were outnumbered just meant getting hurt worse, meant more bruises to hide and more questions from Caitlin that I couldn't answer.

And these weren't village children who'd give me a black eye and move on—these were the important children, the ones whose parents had power and money and influence. If I touched them, if I so much as raised a hand to them, Father would hear about it.

And then...

I forced my hands to unclench, forced my face into something resembling indifference even though I wanted to spit at their feet. "Are you done?" I asked, my voice flat and cold. "Because I have things to do."

"Things to do?" Thomas repeated, his laughter finally subsiding into snickers. "What, crawling around in the dirt looking for scraps? That's what lizards do, isn't it? Eat bugs and hide under rocks?"

More laughter. I stood there and took it, my spine straight, my chin up, even as something inside me curled up small and tight and wished desperately that I could disappear.

"Lizard girl," Elara said, her voice still thick with amusement as she wiped at her eyes. "That's perfect. That's what we'll call you from now on. Lizard girl."

"Lizard girl!" the others chorused, delighted with their new nickname, and I felt something crack inside my chest, some small piece of hope I hadn't even known I was still carrying.

I'd never had a friend. Not one. Not ever. The village children had made it clear from the first day I'd tried to approach them that I wasn't welcome in their games, wasn't worthy of their attention.

Too dirty, they said. Too poor. Too strange.

And I'd told myself I didn't care, that I didn't need them, that I was fine on my own.

But standing there, listening to them laugh at me, watching them look at me like I was something disgusting they'd found stuck to their shoes, I realized I'd been lying to myself.

I did want friends. I wanted it so badly it hurt, wanted someone to talk to who wasn't Caitlin with her sad eyes and helpless hands, wanted someone to play with, to laugh with, to just be with.

Wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere, to someone, instead of being this unwanted thing that everyone wished would just disappear.

But that wasn't going to happen. Not with them. Not with anyone.

Then I noticed the basket.

Mara was carrying it, a woven thing with a cloth covering the top, and the cloth had shifted during their laughter, revealing what was inside. Bread. Real, fresh bread with a golden crust, not the hard, stale stuff we got when we could afford it at all.

Cheese wrapped in cloth. Dried fruit that gleamed like jewels. Honey cakes dusted with sugar.

My stomach twisted so painfully I almost gasped, saliva flooding my mouth again, and before I could think better of it, before I could remember all the reasons this was a terrible idea, I was trailing after them as they started to walk away.

They were still laughing and nudging each other and glancing back at me to make sure I'd heard my new nickname.

"We don't play with you," Mara said when she noticed me following, her voice dripping with the kind of casual disdain that only came from never having wanted for anything in her entire life. "Go away, lizard girl. You're too dirty and you smell bad."

I kept pace with them anyway, keeping just far enough back that they couldn't easily shove me away. Looking back now, I don't know how I stood it. How I didn't just turn around and walk away with whatever dignity I had left.

God, how did I put up with such rude, foul-mouthed children? But I know the answer, even if ten-year-old me couldn't have articulated it. I was desperate.

Desperate for food, yes, but also desperate for something else.