Delia's Heart (Delia 2) - Page 24

They both hugged me. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell them about all the nasty rumors now, but I held back. Why let them drive off worried more than they already were? I stood and watched Edward’s car turn out of the driveway, and then I walked back into the house. It was deadly quiet, but I knew that was a deception. Soon, as soon as Sophia was up and about, there would be a great deal of static and noise.

However, Sophia had such a bad hangover from whatever she had done the night before that she didn’t get out of bed all day. Tía Isabela finally went up to her room to see about her at dinnertime and returned furious. I was afraid to ask anything. She sat fuming. Ten minutes later, Sophia appeared, looking like she had just risen from a grave. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes bloodshot, and her complexion pale. Even her lips were a pale red. She kept her hand over her eyes and leaned over her food.

“I’m not hungry,” she moaned.

“You should eat something, Sophia. And don’t give me that story about someone putting something nasty in your lemonade. I’m not a fool.”

“Well, someone did!” she cried, and immediately cringed from the pain of shouting.

“You know why you’re a dummy, Sophia? This is not the first time or the second you’ve suffered after being so reckless, and if I had to gamble, I’d say you’re going to do it again and again.”

“I’m going to throw up,” Sophia said, and she lifted her head slowly and glared at me. “I’ll tell you why I’m in such pain, Mother. It’s her fault.”

“Her fault?” Tía Isabela smiled. “How, pray tell, is it her fault, Sophia?”

“She put a Mexican curse on me, and she wouldn’t tell me what it was. It was probably this.”

Tía Isabela held her smile, but the humor left a vacant mask. She looked at me.

“What curse is she talking about, Delia? Does this have something to do with the dress?”

“Sí,” I said. “Yes.”

“Why did you tear up that dress, Sophia? That was a very expensive dress.”

“It wasn’t deliberate. Alisha tried it on, and it ripped.”

“She is lying,” I said softly.

“I am not. You weren’t there. You were hiding in the bathroom.”

“Enough,” Tía Isabela said. “We don’t believe in curses. That’s primitive. It’s ridiculous for you even to think such a thing. It’s just an attempt to pass blame away from yourself.”

“I can’t believe how much you take her side now, Mother,” Sophia whined. Then she paused and smiled. “Maybe you’re more of a Mexican than you want people to believe. Maybe I should talk about it.”

Tía Isabela’s face nearly exploded from the rush of blood into her cheeks and forehead. Her eyes bulged with rage. Even Sophia saw she had crossed some line. She tried to swallow and then quickly looked down.

“I’m sick!” she screamed, and got up to run out before Tía Isabela could respond.

Minutes seemed to pass. I didn’t move, didn’t lift my eyes from the plate. Finally, she spoke.

“What was the curse?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“What did you say?”

“I was very angry, Tía Isabela. It means nothing.”

“I know it means nothing, but what was it?”

“I told her that she should feed on her goodness and starve.”

Tía Isabela said nothing. I looked up at her. She was nodding.

“My father…he said the same thing to me,” she said.

“I was very angry,” I repeated.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Delia Horror
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