She felt as she had the first time she got to the house — dejected, hopeless, the crushing feeling of loneliness threatening to squeeze her heart to a mute stop.
She paced the cramped room, sat on the too-small bed, and got back up in what was a mixture of confusion and frustration. Lumos sat in a corner of the room, napping.
It occurred to her that at some point she would need to sleep, too, to rest her body and mind, but with the way her mind ran wild with thoughts, she knew that would be impossible.
After a few hours, the weak light of dawn came into the room in dull slants.
"Morning," she said under her breath, realizing that Arielle would soon come for her.
And she was right, in a few minutes, the door swung open and Arielle — her face sagging and worn out, her disposition irritatable — walked in.
Claudine could see that she was in trouble. She stumbled to her feet to face her elder foster sister.
"G-good morning, Arielle," she said.
Arielle simply nodded — a gesture more of dismissal than it was of acknowledgement.
Claudine thought Arielle would lunge for her, grab her by the throat, rip her heart out, as she had surmised, but Arielle simply stood at the door. It was obvious that she was contemplating what to do with her.
"Ohh, Claudine, my beautiful younger sister," Arielle taunted, stepping inside fully, her every step a menace.
"I must say I am rather surprised; you have quite the spunk. Ahh, and you have made a friend. Not just any friend, a fucking witch!"
Claudine would have loved to tell her that she knew nothing about Ezrianna being a witch, that it was all new to her, that she still thought the events of the previous dream a sort of fever dream, and that witches and werewolves with supernatural speed were the stuff of fairy tales and fantasy novels.
"I-I..." She started, but by then, Arielle was in front of her, and she pressed her index finger against her lips.
"Have you forgotten so soon? Don't speak unless spoken to, baby girl."
Claudine stood still, stiff as a board, as Arielle circled her. She could tell that Arielle had anger and disgruntlement and discontentedness smouldering inside her, that she was looking for a way to channel these feelings, and that she, Claudine, would ultimately be the victim when Arielle unleashed her emotions.
Then she heard a loud squeal — Lumos.
She swivelled to see Arielle holding Lumos by the scruff of the neck; its limbs dangled helplessly as it meowed and meowed for Claudine's help.
Arielle held it up, her eyes fixed on Claudine's face, as if in suspended animation, gauging every flicker of her emotions.
"I'm sorry, Arielle," she finally said.
"Please. Please, don't hurt Lumos."
"Ahh, so the thing has a name," Arielle said, her lips curling in one corner as she smiled mirthlessly.
"Please, Arielle," she reiterated, falling to her knees this time, her hands clasped in front of her.
"Don't hurt it. I beg you."
"Shut the fuck up, tiny slut," Arielle yelled.
"Look at you, on your knees, crying and pleading like you're the victim, when I'm the one who has been victimized. You sneak out everyday to meet your psycho of a friend who calls herself a witch, I say nothing. And then you attend the Founder's Day Ball and rain on my parade? Who do you think you are? Just who do you think you are?"
Claudine could see the yellow glow in Arielle's eyes flickering on and off, and it unsettled her. But still she knelt, hands still clasped, lips still moving wordlessly, pleading for her pet's life.
"You have no idea what I've been through, girl," Arielle said, her voice unusually soft, almost as if she would break into tears, and Claudine could see her throat quiver.
"Yesterday was supposed to be my day," she continued.
"Yesterday, I was supposed to get my mate, and not just any mate, Denzel, the alpha of the Blackmoon Pack. And for the umpteenth time, I had my heart broken. The arrogant motherfucker didn't even look at me."
Claudine wondered what to say now. It was clear Arielle felt hurt, but that specific hurt wasn't her fault.
"Please, Arielle, put Lumos—"
"Shut the fuck up!"
And at this, Arielle severed the cat's head in one motion, leaving blood spurting out of the stump and onto her face, her hair, her chest. Claudine looked on in awe and fear, her mouth agape, and Arielle, seemingly sated, dropped the carcass to the ground.
"Clean this place up," she said as she made for the entrance.
"Or leave it just as it is. I don't give a fuck."
Claudine was left in the wake of Arielle's brash anger, blood splattered on the floor and the splotchy walls, Lumos's decapitated body lying limp on the ground, the stench of concealing blood in the air.
She crawled on her knees and hands, not minding the blood, towards where Lumos was and was filled with a revulsion unlike anything she had ever felt. She became sick and puked the food Ezrianna had given her the previous day on the already untidy floor.
She heaved, still in the crawling position.
After a few minutes, she managed to stand up, wipe her eyes and begin to clean up. She tossed Lumos's body into the bin outside, mopped the floor and scrubbed the walls.
As she scrubbed the walls, breathing heavily with exertion, she suddenly became aware of a presence beside her. She turned around to face Angelo.
"Hi," he said, a gummy smile on his face.
A smile that inspired fear instead of being inviting. Claudine stared at him, rag in hand.
"What, you don't speak?" He asked. He was leaning against the doorframe, and Claudine could see, as his face and hair caught the sunlight, that he bore a resemblance to Mrs. Zaynader — her brother, maybe.
"I'm just cleaning up," Claudine said.
"I can see that. Anyway, your presence is being demanded in the house this minute."
Claudine cast her gaze to the ground, her eyes locked on her curling toes.
"Girl, do you hear me?" Angelo raised his voice, clapping in a way that startled her. She nodded.
"Good. Now," he said and then walked away.
The rag fell from her hand, limp with blood and dirt. She had done an excellent job cleaning the room, but could do nothing about the stench that hung in the air like a bad spirit.
Every single one of her muscle and bone throbbed painfully as she walked out of the room into the main house.
***
It looked like someone had died. The four of them sat around the dining table, each of their faces bearing solemn looks; Angelo was the only one who looked a bit cheerful, but he was too gaunt to telegraph cheeriness properly.
Mrs. Zaynader motioned to a chair for Claudine to sit.
"Jesus, you stink," Angelo let out.
"Get used to it," Arielle said.
"She always stinks."
Claudine recoiled in shame, wishing she could shrink until she became invisible, or that the ground would open up and welcome her into its bowels.
Mr. Zaynader cleared his throat.
"Claudine, we're aware you've been sneaking out of the house, frolicking with unruly elements," he said.
"One of them even try to hurt our precious Arielle."
Claudine looked at Arielle who made a face as if she had been severely hurt.
"You're not supposed to do that, child," Mrs. Zaynader said.
"You're not supposed to leave this house, unless instructed. You're supposed to be here and keep Arielle company."
Claudine nodded slightly, confused at what to do.
"And you even brought an animal in," Mr. Zaynader said, contorting his face and grunting, as if that single fact exacted some physical pain over him.
"We don't want you doing that," Mrs. Zaynader said.
There was a silence, as if all was finished. Claudine wished desperately to be dismissed; it felt awkward and stifling sitting there with them.
"Is that all, dad?" Arielle suddenly spoke up.
"Mom? That's all? You guys barely scolded her." Her parents remained mute.
"Maybe, just maybe, if this little cunt had not been at the ball yesterday, I would have been with my mate, Denzel, by now," she said,
"safely snuggled in his arms."
She said the last part wistfully and Angelo sighed. He seemed ready to burst into laughter.
"But I know just what to do," Arielle got on her feet. "Since everyone is too chicken livered to do it, I will fucking do it."
She grabbed Claudine by her neck, her nails digging into her flesh, and began dragging her outside.
"Don't hurt the little cunt," Angelo joked.
Arielle dragged Claudine outside of the main house, dumping her on the ground. Claudine tried to get up, but before she could, Arielle kicked her in the side of her face. She continued the assault — kicking and stomping and kicking, until Claudine passed out.