Chapter 3

Mother made Sofia’s baked macaroni after all.

The three of them sat around the dining table, talking about the lights and music at the ice show. When I moved closer to Mother, I noticed a small box on the empty chair beside her, tied with a gold ribbon.

It had to be my birthday dessert. Mother had remembered. For a moment, I forgot the study, the blood, and the fact that I could no longer touch her. I only wanted to sit beside her while she lit the candle, even if Sofia helped me blow it out.

I pointed it out to Nero outside the window, but Mother soon pushed the box toward Sofia.

“This is the cupcake you wanted at the arena. Take it to your room and eat it there. Do not let Elena see it. She has caused enough trouble today.”

Sofia lifted the lid. A single chocolate cupcake sat inside, covered in white frosting and flakes of gold.

I had never eaten anything so beautiful. I followed Sofia upstairs and watched her drag one finger through the frosting. Nero suddenly jumped from the windowsill and knocked the box aside. The cupcake fell to the floor, and when Sofia reached for him, his claws raked across the back of her hand.

Her scream brought Mother rushing into the room. She looked from the ruined cupcake to the open window, and her anger immediately turned toward me.

“Elena, why didn’t you close the window after eating that sandwich? Did you let this cat inside because you wanted him to hurt Sofia?”

She grabbed the empty box and hurled it at the study door. Frosting smeared across the dark wood and slid toward the floor.

I tried to tell her that the window had never closed properly, but Father had already lifted Sofia into his arms.

“We’re taking her to the clinic. We’ll deal with Elena when we get back.”

It was past midnight when they returned. Sofia’s hand was wrapped in white gauze, and she wore a new burgundy velvet coat.

“I cried when the doctor gave me the shot, so Mom bought me this coat and took me out for steak.”

She turned in front of the study door, making the soft skirt flare around her legs.

“You’ve never worn anything this pretty, have you, Elena? That’s what happens when you keep drawing black.”

The study remained silent. Father knocked several times before his patience ran out. He struck the door with his shoulder, causing it to hit my body and swing back toward him.

The telephone rang downstairs. Mrs. Donnelly was complaining about the noise so late at night. Father muttered under his breath and decided he would have someone open the door in the morning.

Sofia stayed in the hall. When she stepped closer to the study, her shoe landed in the blood seeping through the narrow gap beneath the door. Her foot slid, and her forehead struck the corner of the cabinet beside her.

Her scream brought Mother and Father running. Sofia pressed one hand to her forehead, and the sight of blood on her fingers made her cry harder.

“Elena shoved the door against me when I tried to get inside. She hates my new coat, and she told me to go away.”

Mother never looked closely enough to see where the blood had come from. She raised her foot and kicked the study door.

“Elena Moretti, come out right now.”

The door struck my face and shoulder with every kick. I could no longer feel pain. I only wondered whether they would be frightened when they finally saw me.

The door refused to open fully. Mother eventually stopped to tend to Sofia’s forehead, warning me that I would answer for everything I had done when morning came.

As Father carried Sofia back to her room, she tossed the white tiger plush into the hall. It struck the cabinet and knocked Mother’s wooden box onto the floor.

The lid came loose, and the colored sticks scattered across the marble.

I drifted closer and counted them one by one.

Every single stick was black.