2: Plea

The silence was the only speaker as the Martins ate their lunch. The three of them were sitting four squint chairs apart from each other, a long glass table supporting their food. From other’s perspectives, it’s hard to say whether or not they’re having a feast as they’ve been served with different kinds of dishes, all of which were placed on a silver platter. Two candelabra were facing each other, holding a pink candle danced by a pea-size flame. In addition to its barely visible light, a glass-made chandelier hanged just above the middle part of the high-arching ceiling, illuminating the roasted chicken with its minuscule bulb inside its bulb-shaped case. 

Zheira kept her eyes on her plate, trying to steady her breathing. She’d never truly appreciated their distance when eating together, but it’s a life-saver as of the moment. Knowing Melinda, if she noticed Zheira’s shaking body, she’d probably be fussy about it to the point she’d call their family doctor.

Without raising her head, she moved her eyes to sneak a glance from her mother who’s seated in her opposite direction. Her heart started beating fast, and she couldn’t help tearing. Every time she looked at Melinda, she’s reminded of what she did in her dream. It wasn’t a reality, but as absurd as it might sound, she felt as though it’s a premonition, as though by sticking close to her mother, what she dreamed of, which was more like a nightmare, would border the line of illusion. She didn’t want that to happen, so she has to distance herself from her. That horrible thing happened while they’re closed, and if distancing herself was the only solution, then she’d gladly do so, even at the cost of her heartache and her mother’s hatred. 

“Are you okay, Z?” a soft, manly voice said, doubling the rate in which Zheira’s heart beats. 

Melinda stopped midway stuffing a spoon on her mouth to squint at Zheira who swallowed and moved back. It was hard for her to breathe steadily as her mother tilted her head, her brows furrowing. Zheira exhaled deeply when Melinda directed her gaze to her husband. 

“What are you talking about, Honey? She looks perfectly fine if you ask me.”

Robert, a thirty-five-year-old man whose thinness couldn’t be compared to a stick, gave Zheira a worried look. Seeing how much she sweats with the sudden attention she’s getting, he shrugged, curving his lips into an awkward smile, making Melinda roll her eyes. 

“Stop making me worry, will you?” She pointed him with her bread knife. Robert merely chuckled, and silence reigned once more. 

Zheira stared from Melinda to Robert, thinking. She’d always been keen on how much different she looked, but what bothered her was the fact that she had no resemblance whatsoever with her parents. Unlike her, they have no horns, their eyes were normal, and their physiques and features were clearly different. 

Robert had a bony face, a pointed nose, and wide-set eyes, while Melinda possessed such plump cheeks and child-like, yet still fierce, facial. One way or another, she should’ve inherited even just one of their features or even both of theirs. That was never the case, though. She remained to be an intrinsic being whose difference with her roots was uncanny. It made her think, though it’s quite unnecessary, that she’s not their real child. 

But if that’s to be her reality, then who was she? What’s there to live when she didn’t feel like living? After all, she’s nothing but a sinless prisoner. 

Though drowning with her uncertainty, she’s able to catch a glimpse of a shadow drawing nearer. All at once, her mind went blank. Following her instinct, she hid underneath their table, her heart beating fast, sweats trickling on her temple. With her hastiness, her chair fell with a loud clang on the tiled ground. It was perhaps fortunate that she’s facing the doorway because she gets to act in case someone barged in. 

The abrupt tingle of sound made Melinda jump. She turned and faced the wide doorway of the Hall, widening her eyes at the footsteps now echoing clearly. Meanwhile, Robert stood, his jaw locked, ready to give a piece of his mind to those who dared to break their golden rule. He thought they’ve made it clear that, under no circumstances, would anyone be walking around the mansion, at least for the day. Clearly, someone wasn’t listening. 

“I thought I told you not to come inside without our permission!” started Melinda, her voice echoing with the footstep. She clenched her fists when no one answered, gritting her teeth to stop herself from saying anything that’d ruin her reputation. 

From where Zheira’s hiding, she’d seen the rubber shoes of the shadow’s owner, her heart beating so fast it’s as if it’d fall off her chest any minute. 

“What an unwelcoming mansion you have, Melinda! I’ve expected better than this!” a rough, gruffly voice said. 

Apparently, it wasn’t their maid nor bodyguard who barged inside without permission. It was no other than Melinda’s first cousin, Theodore. He’s an inch taller than Zheira, though his spiky white hair might’ve been the reason for it or else his long legs. He fashioned himself with blue cargo pants and a white polo shirt, complementing his oceanic downturned eyes and a snub nose. Compared to Robert, he had much skin, though the shape of their body was only a fraction different. 

All the color left Melinda’s face. Her lips started shaking as she processed why his cousin would appear after a few years. “W-why? Why are you here?”

Theodore raised one brow, a smirk carving his square-shaped face. “Well, for starter, I want to see how you’re doing after you left Auntie heart-broken. It’s obvious your doing well. Financially, I guess.” He gave the Hall one sweeping look, careful not to pour any attention to the specimen he never wanted to see, to the man he hated, to the man who took her Auntie’s child. 

Noticing the plate on the opposite side of the table, his brows furrowed. “So, who’s dining in with you?”

At the mention of it, Melinda remembered Zheira. Frustration and anger started mixing inside of her, but she managed to get a hold of herself. She needed to make this bastard leave. There’s no way she would let him see her daughter. Not now, not ever.

Robert sensed Melinda’s despair, so he cleared his throat. “No one’s dining—”

“Are you kidding me?” interjected Theodore, still not looking at him. 

“No, I’m not!”

“How dare a beggar like you talk to me!”

“That’s enough, Theodore!” Melinda bit her lips, her nose wrinkling. “Let’s talk in the backyard. I’ll prepare a tea.”

 Theodore glared at Robert, silently glad he’s wearing a worn-out oversized polo, before following Melinda outside. 

The moment they’re out of sight, Zheira started breathing. She’d been forcing herself not to do anything that would get their uninvited guest from ever noticing her presence. It was so close. The last time she felt those rushes of fear was the first time she’d woke up with horns sticking out of her head. Somehow, it reminded her that, though she’s inhumane in so many ways, a part of her was still a mortal. It would never change, hopefully.

Cautiously, Zheira crawled out. She stretched her muscles before picking up her chair. Once seated, she wiped her forehead, closing her eyes. They’ve never had a visitor, at least not since her horns emerged. The maids and the guards were an exception, though. They’re not guests, of course, but they have the privilege to roam the mansion, though only when Zheira’s not around. 

Life’s pretty boring when one couldn’t meet new faces every day. That’s what Zheira believed. It’s as if she’s living only because death was still yet to knock on her doors. Should she be glad? Glad that she’s still alive despite her weirdness? Or sad? Sad that the only face she’d seen were her parents, personal doctor, and tutors. She’d never had a friend, and it never once crossed her mind that someone would dare get closer to her. 

Robert assumed that Zheira’s silence was a mixture of disappointment, bemusement, and fear. He promised never to cause his daughter so much pain, which was why they’ve decided to isolate her from the rest of the world and even with their relatives. Because however thicker the blood, it matters not when confronted by something unknown. 

Sighing, Robert grabbed an apple, cut it into two, and gave the other half to Zheira who accepted it reluctantly. “Are you curious about Theodore?”

Zheira eyed her father’s face but was careful not to look at his eyes. “Yes,” was what she wanted to say, but her tongue slipped and her mouth uttered, “No.” Looking away, she bit her apple, staring into nothingness, trying to ignore the gaze equating in her direction.

“Theodore and Melinda are cousin. Theodore lost his parents in a car accident, so he’s been groomed by Melinda’s mother. Since then, the two of them always compete for a mother’s love, but because Melinda’s the real child, she always got the best of it.” Robert smiled at her daughter, a bitter one. “But their competition ended when I came. I’m their hardener, see, and your mother has taken a liking at me. Of course, I’m already attracted to her since the first time I laid my eyes—” He giggled appreciatively, as though Zheira’s teasing him. That wasn’t the case. Zheira remained inattentive. 

“Yeah, yeah! It’s cliché, even our love story. I was poor. Your mother’s rich. And I have to live my life knowing that I can’t reach your mother’s level.” 

Zheira accidentally looked up just in time when Robert stared at her. Their eyes locked. For a moment, nothing happened until Zheira’s seen something she never wanted to see. Both her parents were naked in their room. Melinda was on top of Robert. But what caught Zheira’s attention was the linear scar on her mother’s back. She had this creepy feeling that she’s seen it somewhere but couldn’t pinpoint why so. 

“Zheira, are you okay?” said Robert with furrowed brows. His voice brought Zheira back to reality. She closed her eyes and massaged her temple, gulping.

Robert stood but before he could get close to Zheira, she stood, her eyes still closed. “I-I just need some r-rest.”

Worried though Robert was, he turned and walked ahead of her. “Come, I’ll take you to your room!” 

The Martin’s Mansion laid in the quiet suburb of North Hills, New York. Ever since they’ve had Zheira, they decided to isolate themselves from other people, feeling rather protective with their firstborn. Turns out, they’re right all along. Long after they’ve left the city, odd things started happening to their Zheira, two of which were her eyes that could see memories and the little horns on the top of her head. 

Robert and Zheira ascended to the glass staircases that spiraled up to the second floor. Her room was located at the center of the two rooms that curved together, making a letter u in the process. There’s quite a distance from the stairs and the rooms, allowing for a bonsai tree to be plotted in the center, surrounded by flat glass-like pebbles. 

“You rest, okay?” whispered Robert as he kissed his daughter on the cheeks. Zheira nodded before closing the door. For a moment, he stared at the plate carved with Zheira’s name, thinking whether they’re doing the right thing. It’s been over ten years since she’s been locked like this in her room. Her skin had become so pale and blue veins were already visible on her cheeks. It’s been so long since she ever stepped outside, and he felt a pang of pain by merely imagining it. It must be so sad. 

In the backyard, Melinda and Theodore were sitting on a couch, a square glass table facing them. There were two cups and a teapot standing on its mat, together with a vase with roses. Their yard was bordered by a tall cemented wall, with bob-wires twisting at its top. There were trees planted in three points intervals, grasses hailing their roots. It’s accompanied by organic plants plotted on a vase. To top it all up, a hedge was planted in the centermost. It was groomed into a shape of a flying dove. One of Robert’s masterpieces.

“It’s been eighteen years, huh!” started Theodore, sipping his tea. “Why did you leave, Melinda?”

Melinda gave the yard one sweeping look before saying, “I have to. It’s what’s best.”

Theodore sniggered. “I really hope so, Melinda! I really hope so.”

“What are you trying to say? Just spit it out, and let this be over.”

“Mom needs you.” He said that without a hint of any emotions. “She longed to see you to the point she’s been sick. I’m so tired of coming back to the hospital, keeping her in check, telling her you’re no good and that she needs not worry because I was with her. But with all the rotten luck, she didn’t listen, so I tracked you. I want her to see you before her health deteriorates even worse.” Though his ears were reddening, his breathing rather fast, his eyes devoid with emotions, Melinda felt his brokenness, his pain. 

“You really loved her.” Melinda turned to face him. “You really do. Perhaps, more than I ever did.”

Theodore sighed. “Sometimes I wished I were the real child, not you. All you ever did was hurt Mom. You even betrayed her trust just to be with a gardener. You stooped so low, Melinda. You stooped so low.”

Melinda looked away, her face a little stern. “If only Mom accepted him, you wouldn’t be here begging for me to go see her.”

“I’m not begging here, Melinda. There’s no way I will do that.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I just want to see how you’re doing. Whether or not karma has made you suffer, but, apparently, it never did. Well, in the financial part, I guess. But I doubt you ever had a child, so all the same, you’re still an empty vessel.”

Closing her eyes, Melinda clenched her fist. “If you’ve got nothing to say, please leave!”

“I have no plans of staying here. Not in a room where a gardener is—”

“He’s no gardener now, Theo! Stop looking down at him. He’s already the CEO of our com—”

“Your doing, I know. Don’t defend your good-for-nothing husband. It just makes him so small in my eyes.”

She never thought Theodore could spill those words. For a second, she thought he’s here to plead for Melinda to see her mother, but all he did was to inform her of what had become of her. She knew she must meet her; however, she’s not at all ready to see the woman who abandoned her just because she learned to love. 

“I guess that’s all for now. I’ll come back here every now and then to see if your decision changes.”

One of her brows raised. “I thought you’re not going to plead.”

“Exactly!” He snapped. “Let’s see if your conscience can take it.” As he stood, he extracted a small envelope from his pocket and handed it over to Melinda. “A cloaked man gave that to me earlier. Probably a beggar who’s asking for donations. Oh well, you’re a charity, right? So, I guess you’re going to donate some of your money and make another CEO.”

Without waiting for a response, he walked away, his footsteps heavier than before. 

Melinda ignored his insults, as she was busy peering on the simple envelope, thinking. The word ‘cloaked man’ bothered her so much. Swallowing hard, she ripped the envelope open and was taken aback by the small piece of paper inside it. There were only three words written on it in an elegant script, but it was more than enough to drain her with all her colors. 

‘I’m always watching!’ was what’s written there.