by John Sharp
****
Sarah takes a deep breath, licking her lips. She regards me closely. “You have the same eyes as him, green slit-pupil, that are unnaturally bright.” My stomach gives an unfriendly lurch as possibilities I had once dismissed as fantasy become a whole lot more likely.
“Please, continue,” I say, not wanting to dwell on my possible origins.
“Yes, please go on,” Whisper says from her lap.
“I don’t recall much after that. I cried a lot. Begged them to take me home. He just kept asking about the drugs but I refused to tell him. It was my only bargaining chip. He hurt me in subtle ways and showed me horrors that made my earlier adventure seem tame and completely reasonable. Eventually he gave up and had one of the tall men put me in a flower.”
“A flower?” Brick asks chewing on some wall plaster.
“Yes, it was huge, the size of a car filled with tiny bugs.” She shudders. “He told me not to leave it if I wanted to live and that he would come back once a day to see if I didn’t have a more satisfactory answer for him.”
“What did you do?” Asks Whisper.
She smiles down at him. “Well, at first nothing. I cried and then I screamed for help until I was hoarse. Hours later I finally accepted the truth that I was going to die there. Even if I told Solarkar where the drugs were he would have likely left me yhere. And I realized I had nothing left to lose. Gathering my courage, I left my flower in desperation, trying to find my way home. Two hours later I was being chased by some viscous pack hunters only to be rescued by a boy riding a large white ferret.” She gives me and Whisper a warm, thankful smile that no human has ever given me before. I straighten up, staring deep into her cool blue eyes, feeling something that I had rarely felt before. Pride.