My frustration boils over. I knew this would happen. “Just because Kat got out of here early doesn’t mean you have to punish me for it!” I glance up at the clock and reach for my bag. So much for happy family meals. “I have to go.”
Dad steps into the hallway, blocking the door. “Where? I meant what I said. I don’t want you seeing that guy. I’ll get the police involved if I have to.”
I walk up to Dad, trying hard not to cry. He’s always been the one on my side, but now he’s just parroting her talk. “If you do, then you’re going to have an empty house a lot sooner than you think.” He can’t meet my eyes, so I reach around him to open the door. Mom starts to say something else, but I close the door behind me before I have to listen to her.
“Have you been practicing?” Janine asks, taking a bite of her salad as we walk toward the Faculty Glade behind her office.
I grin, finally feeling better after my fight with Mom and Dad. Janine sounds just like I do when I question Zander. “Sort of,” I say. “Sometimes, if I’m not paying attention, it feels like other people’s emotions are shooting at me from all directions. Other times, when I’m really concentrating, I can’t get anything at all.” It’s a little weird to talk to her now. Like the subject of Griffon is just under everything we’re saying, like a death we’re not ready to acknowledge.
Janine nods thoughtfully. She’s either really good at hiding it, or it doesn’t bother her at all. “I’ve read about that happening to other empaths. You have to be careful not to take on the emotions of those around you.”
“How do I avoid it? I can’t seem to control any of it.”
“From what I’ve researched, it’s a matter of controlling the magnetic field that the brain generates from neuronal activity. That’s what you’re feeling when you read people. And that’s what you’re going to have to learn to block as you get more sensitive.”
“Mom just thinks I’m an emotional mess,” I say. I squeeze my eyes shut. That’s coming way too close to Griffon territory. “I mean, I just wish I could tell her about all of this.” I think about how it felt to have her arms around me. “It feels like there’s so much separating us now. So much I can’t say to her.”
“Maybe you can someday,” Janine says. “I told Griffon’s father about us, and he’s been able to keep our secret for almost twenty years. You just have to be pretty selective. And the consequences aren’t as high as they were in the old days. Not many people get burned at the stake for being witches anymore.”
That’s what Griffon said the day he told me about being Akhet—that the person who helped him was executed for sorcery. “How’s Griffon?” I ask, regretting the question the minute it leaves my lips.
She grins. “He’s fine. Busy setting up the lab in the South Bay.” She pauses. “He was asked to give a big speech at an energy symposium the other day. It’s on the Internet—you should take a look. It’s a side of him you don’t get to see often.” I can hear the proud mom in her talking and see how hard she’s trying to keep the conversation neutral. Janine looks around at the grassy area. “How about we sit under that tree over there?”
The sun is blazingly bright, so we settle onto the soft mat of redwood needles at the base of the tree. I take a bite of my apple and watch three women in brightly colored saris walking on the path. The one in the middle is wearing one of emerald green, and the silk is so shiny I can almost feel it on my fingertips.
The darkness is total, complete and unwavering. I suspect I’ll get used to it—at least, that’s what they tell me. I wonder if someday I’ll forget about sight altogether. If one day I won’t be able to remember what Mum’s face looks like, or the bright green color of her favorite sari. If someday, things will be as dark inside my head as they are beyond my useless eyes.
Spicy breakfast smells drift through the air and I roll over, wondering what time it is. I can hear Mum and Daddy whispering in the other room, even though they think I’m still asleep; if I listen, I can hear what they’re saying.
“We can’t have Ramesh begging in the streets for the rest of his life,” Daddy says. “What other choice do we have?”
“But he’s still a child! How can you think of sending him away? Especially in his condition?”
Daddy sighs and I know this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. “He’s not a child, Hamsa, he’s almost twelve. And it’s precisely because of his condition that we have no choice. There are no facilities for blind people in India. His best option for the future is to go to school in England. They can teach him how to get around with a cane and to read with his fingers.” They’re quiet for a moment, and I can picture Daddy taking Mum’s hand, trying to convince her.
“Read with his fingers? Can they really do that?”
“They can,” Daddy says. “I’ve heard all about it from Vikram’s cousin, who knows someone who saw it firsthand. The war is over, and I’m told that the Germans’ bombs did very little damage to that part of the country in any case. If he’s to have any chance at all, we have to take this opportunity.”
Mum’s voice still carries worry. “What about the rumors of partition? What if something happens and he’s so far away?”
“If there is partition, it won’t be violent. Everything will be civilized and constitutional. In any case, he’ll be safe there. We have to trust that we’re doing the best for him.”
Varun’s breathing is slow and steady and I know that neither their conversation nor the smells from the kitchen have woken him. A few minutes later, I hear soft footsteps in the doorway. Mum pauses long enough so that I can smell the perfumed oil she always wears, and I know that my eyes are so damaged from the firecracker that she has no idea if I’m asleep or not.
“I’m awake,” I say quietly.
“You have ears like a hyena these days,” she says. I hear her voice change pitch as she smiles, although I have a feeling that it’s more forced than usual. “Food is almost ready.”
“I’ll wake Varun,” I say, throwing the covers off. At first I was glad to be staying home while everyone else went to school, but lately I’ve been missing it. Even Miss Mehta’s dreary history class might be worth sitting through if only to get out of this house.
“Thank you, dear,” Mum says. I know that she’s wondering whether I’ve overheard them, but I’m not giving anything away. I’m not sure how I feel about going to a blind school in England. On the one hand, it would be better than staying in the house all day, every day. On the other, it’s one of the most terrifying prospects I can imagine. All alone in a strange country, not even being able to see where I am when I get lost. We listened to the war on the radio, and even though Daddy says that they didn’t hit that part of England, I still picture myself wandering among bombed-out buildings while airplanes drone overhead like in the newsreels we saw at the cinema. I need some time to think about it, although I know that when Daddy puts his mind to something, it very rarely changes. Varun has been trying to get them to send him away to boarding school for as long as I can remember, but for him, the answer has always been no.
My feet hit the warm tile floor and I feel my way from my bed to my brother’s. “Get up!” I shout somewhere close to his ear.
“Stupid!” he says, pushing me backward so hard I fall to the floor, but we’re both laughing. As much of an ass as Varun is, he’s the only one who’s made me feel even halfway normal since the accident. He spent the first few months apologizing daily, crying about how he never should have handed me the firecracker in the first place. I hated it. I’m much happier having my irritating older brother back.