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He spoke a language that wasn’t my own, yet was. I understood it, and the source of the pain in his chest.
“There are slaves in China.” Father speaks with a discordant note, not to admonish me, but to teach me. “The number is small, and the practice is waning, but almost every culture has a race that they treat as half man, half thing.”
“I will never treat a human with anything resembling this contempt.” I make the vow to myself and to my family’s honor.
“I know, son of mine. This is why I brought you here, to America. To see the different ways people live, and so you can choose your own path. Kindness is always the answer. Turn your inner concerns outward, and live for others rather than yourself.”
My father grins and holds up a tiny golden Buddha. “It doesn’t hurt if you sell them a few things along the way.”
When I opened my eyes, I was on the ground, on my back.
My mother had seen the possession, watched it change my body, and she was afraid. “Your face …”
I didn’t have time to enjoy her fear. I was too busy anticipating an onslaught. What I saw when I looked around rocked me to the core.
The rips were watching us. Not me, us. Me and my mother.
Some held back, and others surged forward to stare. Even though they drifted closer to me than her, they still hovered, unable to keep their eyes in one place. Unable to make a decision.
“Do you see that?” I asked her softly. “They can’t decide if they want to pick me or you. You might not be activated, but you’re still an Infinityglass.”
“Maybe. But you’re the powerful one.” She said the words loudly, like she wanted to make sure they could hear. And then she pointed. “She’s the powerful one.”
The rips knew their best option, and now they were advancing. I felt the pull, but it wasn’t as strong as usual. I guessed I had something to thank my mother for after all, even if it was only a momentary distraction.
I moved closer to her. The rips followed me, and once again split their focus between us. My mind scrambled for a way to draw out the confusion as long as I could. Then I caught sight of Dune.
He approached us at a run, grabbing me and pulling me away from Mom and the rips.
“Don’t give in, Hallie.”
He put his body between the rips and me.
It worked.
They were staring only at my mother now, and she gaped at them in horror. They began to circle her, and I held on to Dune instead of being absorbed into the lives of those already dead.
“Can you get us out?” he asked.
I’d have to make a choice.
I stared at my mother, who even now was trying to wave the rips in my direction.
I took Dune’s hand and closed the rip world.
I left my mother behind.
My hair was still wet from the shower when I climbed into his lap, which was my new favorite place. If we had to be vertical. “She’ll get out. She’s not activated. She doesn’t have enough strength to sustain them.”
He held me close, and his big hand ran slow circles over my back. “Are you okay?”
“At least I know the truth now.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
I wanted to call my dad, see if he’d known the truth, any part of it. “Not right now. Right now let’s talk about how you got this scar.” I smoothed my finger over his eyebrow.
“I fell off the kitchen counter when I was three.”
