Chapter 6: Dinner
873 Words
Jane's POV
Zachary looked at me. Really looked. And for a second, he looked eighteen. Not scary. Just a boy who looked tired. “Because you’re the only girl,” he said. Simple. Like that explained everything. “And because Dad’s enemies know you exist now. News travels fast.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Don’t ‘oh’ me,” Zachary said. His voice was rough. “Take it seriously. No going anywhere alone. Not even the bathroom if the door doesn’t lock. You hear me?”
“I hear you,” I said. Small.
“Good,” he said. Then, softer: “You’re safe here. But only if you listen.”
Alexander cleared his throat. “Dad wants dinner at 8. That’s 20 minutes. Marta will show you where.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said. My stomach chose that moment to betray me. It growled. Loud.
Jake snorted. “Sure you’re not.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I can wait.”
“No,” Zachary said. “You eat. You’re…” He stopped. Looked at my arms. My wrists. “You’re too small. Dad will think we starved you.”
“I’m not small,” I mumbled. “I’m average.”
“You’re a stiff breeze away from flying,” Jake said. “Come on. Dinner’s mandatory. Rule number four.”
“How many rules are there?” I asked.
“Seven,” Alexander said. “You’ll learn them.”
Marta was already walking out. “This way, Miss.”
I followed. Jake fell in next to me again. Zachary took the rear. Again. Always behind me.
“Why do you walk back there?” I whispered to Jake.
“Zack?” Jake whispered back. “Because if someone comes from behind, he gets to them first. He’s been doing it since we were kids. After Mom died, Dad said ‘no one gets behind us.’ Zack took it literal.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Yeah,” Jake said. “He’s intense. But he’s good. He’ll kill anyone who looks at you wrong.”
“Don’t say kill,” I hissed. “That’s not normal.”
“It’s normal here,” Jake said. Then he winced. “Sorry. That was… yeah. Not normal.”
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The dining room was ridiculous. Table that could seat twenty. Only five chairs set. Crystal glasses. Real silver. Plates that probably cost more than Tatay’s yearly salary.
Sandro was already at the head of the table. He stood when I walked in. Everyone else did too.
That was weird. At home, we yelled “kain na!” and shoved each other for the good seat.
“Sit,” Sandro said. He pointed to the chair on his right. “That was your mother’s seat.”
My mother. The one I never met. The one who died having me and Jake.
I sat. The chair was heavy. My feet didn’t touch the ground. Great.
Jake dropped into the seat beside me. Alexander took the left side of Sandro. Zachary sat across from me. Which meant I could see him. Which meant he could see me.
He was already watching. Not eating. Just… watching. Like I was going to disappear if he blinked.
“Eat,” Sandro said.
Staff started bringing food out. Steak. Rice. Vegetables that didn’t look boiled to death. It smelled amazing.
I picked up my fork. It was heavy. Real silver. I was scared I’d drop it.
“So,” Sandro said, looking at me. “How is your room?”
“Big,” I said. Honest. “Too big. And gray.”
Sandro’s eyebrow went up. “Gray?”
“No color,” I said. “It’s like… a sad boy’s room.”
Jake choked on water. Alexander covered his mouth with his hand.
Zachary didn’t laugh. He just said, “I’ll fix it.”
“You will?” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. Like it was obvious. “You want pink?”
“I didn’t say that,” I said, fast. My face was hot. “I just meant… a plant? Maybe? Nanay had sampaguita.”
“I’ll get you sampaguita,” Zachary said. “And pink. If you want.”
“I don’t—” I stopped. “Thank you.”
Sandro was watching the exchange. His face didn’t change. But he said, “Zack. See to it.”
“Yes, sir,” Zachary said.
“Do you like steak?” Sandro asked me.
I cut a piece. It was pink inside. Tatay always cooked steak until it was gray and tough because “baka may germs.” I put it in my mouth.
It was good. So good I almost cried.
“Jane?” Sandro said.
I swallowed. “Yes. Sorry. It’s good. Thank you, po—” I stopped. “Thank you.”
Sandro nodded. “You’re thin. You’ll eat more.”
“I’m not thin,” I mumbled. “I’m… compact.”
“Compact,” Jake repeated. “I’m using that.”
“Rule five,” Alexander said, cutting a piece of his steak. “Dessert is mandatory. Dad says a family that eats sweets together stays together.”
- Writer
