Noah stared at me for the longest time, his eyes drifting momentarily to Sylvia and then back to me. Something dark passed over his features, but in a blink, it was gone. When he spoke, he completely ignored my question and instead commented, “You’re spirited in the morning.”
“And you’re awful. If you and your sister want to go out and get drunk, that’s fine. Just don’t make other people suffer because of it,” I said before stomping my way into the kitchen.
Never in a million years would I speak to Vee the way I’d just spoken to Noah. Perhaps because he was a stranger I felt brave. I popped some bread in the toaster and grabbed the peanut butter from the cupboard. I didn’t exactly have an appetite right then, but I refused to let Vee’s behaviour mess with my head. As I put the kettle on to make tea, Noah walked into the kitchen.
I heard him pull a chair out to sit at the table, but I didn’t look at him. I’d always known there was something missing in Vee, some vital part of the human psyche, but I was now starting to think it ran in the family.
“I’ll take milk, no sugar in mine, thanks,” Noah said, and I wanted to lift the sugar bowl and throw it right in his face. But I didn’t. Instead, I let my anger fester until my cheeks grew red and a ball of tension turned my stomach into knots. I tried to calm down, imagining Dad’s voice reciting a Bible verse in my head.
The LORD is slow to anger, abounding in love and forgiving sin and rebellion. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished…
Maybe it wasn’t my place to be angry at Vee and Noah. Maybe God would see to it that they were punished for treating Sylvia so poorly. Still, it was hard to let go of my rage. I stood by the counter, angrily eating my toast and making a point not to join Noah at the table. He kicked his long legs out and sat back, resting his arms along the tops of the chairs on either side of him.
“How old are you?” he asked, and I cast him a narrowed-eyed look, not answering. He chuckled. “Not talking to me, huh?”
“I don’t speak to people who derive pleasure from the pain of others.”
“You definitely shouldn’t talk to me then.” Something about the self-possessed, unflappable look in his eyes truly bothered me.
I stared him down, my expression incredulous. “You actually enjoy hurting people?”
He lifted his shoulder. “Only if they deserve it.”
Well, that wasn’t at all disturbing. My eyebrows shot up. “Sylvia has enough suffering in her life already. She certainly doesn’t deserve more of it.”
When he didn’t say anything, my gaze narrowed. “Why are you here anyway? Why come home after all these years?”
He tutted at me. “Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”
I heaved a sigh. I really should walk out of this room and ignore him, but the angry part of me was also entirely too intrigued. I wanted to know more about Vee’s brother, and I couldn’t for the life of me explain why. “I’m eighteen.” I answered finally. “Though I don’t see how that could be of any interest to you.”
Noah laughed. “Call it morbid curiosity.”
I stared at him, not getting whatever it was he found humorous. His grin spread wide across his face, and his gaze remained glued to me. There was something unnatural about his smile. It didn’t meet his eyes. In the end, I lost the staring contest by glancing out the window. His eyes made me all mixed up. I couldn’t decide if they were beautiful or terrifying. His lashes were very dark, which only served to highlight the unusual green of his irises. Vee, on the other hand, had pale lashes and extremely pale, almost chalky, white skin, so her eyes weren’t as striking.
“You haven’t answered my question,” I said. “Why have you come home?”
“Because it was about time,” he replied, cryptically.
“Well, that tells me approximately nothing,” I said, deadpan, and the curve to Noah’s lips again indicated his amusement. “What do you do for a living?” I went on, hoping to put my misgivings to rest. Honestly, he looked like a drug dealer. Or something equally sinister.
One dark eyebrow rose ever so slightly. “I’m a location scout for the movies.”
I chewed on a bite of toast. “Really?”
He scoffed, like I was totally gullible. “No.” His eyes lowered to the crest on my uniform. “Do you like Loreto?”
I swallowed and looked away a moment. “Yes and no. I like learning, but things can become a little claustrophobic when it’s all girls all the time.” I hoped my tactic of opening up to him might encourage him to do the same.