She stared blankly into space, her body limp and lifeless as I drew her into my arms. I tapped her gently, calling out her name repeatedly, but she didn't respond. Panic set in, and I screamed to the roof top, my voice echoing through the house.
Our foster mother rushed in, her face steaming with concern, and without a word, she took Mira from me and hurried out of the room. "Get me the car keys!" she shouted over her shoulder. I sprinted to fetch them, my heart racing with worry. As I turned to hand them over, I lost my footing and fell hard onto the floor.I felt nothing at that moment so,I scrambled up immediately, picked up the keys, and handed them to our foster mother.
She jumped into the car, started the engine, and sped off before I could even open the passenger's door.I stood there, frozen in shock, wondering why she hadn't waited for me. I wasn't expecting much from her anyways but I was dead worried about Mira especially because it was night already and our foster mother wasn't back.
I sat down outside and pleaded with the security man to let me out, but he remained firm. The last time I approached him, he said something that sent me shivering.
"Ma'am, no one's allowed to leave the premises. The moment anyone does..." He trailed off, his eyes darting around nervously. I pressed him for clarification.
"You mean I'm not even allowed to go out and get some essentials myself?" He nodded curtly, his gaze still shifting.
"Mummy didn't inform you? She's taken care of arranging for everything you need. Just let her handle it." His words only piqued my curiosity.
"That means we're not the only girls who've lived here?" I asked, curiosity overwhelming me. The security guard nodded, his expression somber.
"Yes, and you won't be the last. My boss once had a daughter about your age, but she passed away a few months ago – just a week before you arrived." My eyes widened in surprise.
"Really?" He nodded again, and I pieced together why our foster mother might be hesitant to adopt another female child and Eric's statements.
But before I could process everything, the guard continued speaking, his voice low.
"She was taken out one morning, just like..." A car horn interrupted him, and I quickly retreated inside. The sound came from my foster father, who was pulling up in his car.
He stepped out with a calm demeanor, a stark contrast to the panic I expected after his wife's frantic call.I knew quite well that his wife might have called him. I watched from the window, my mind racing. I dashed out and he approached me with a warm smile, his arm wrapping around my waist.
"Welcome, Dad," I said, trying to muster some enthusiasm.
"Thank you, my daughter," he replied, his gaze lingering on me. I felt uneasy under his touch, and something about it seemed... familiar for some reasons I couldn't fathom.
"Dad! Mum didn't call you?" I asked .
"About Mira? I checked on her while coming and she's responding to treatment " He said calmly.
"She will be fine. Rest assured" He said when he noticed I was silent prior to his reply.
I retired to my room, and my foster father went to his. That night, I struggled to sleep, despite having eaten only a bit of dinner. When I woke up the next morning, my clothes were stained again, and I felt weak.i could hardly walk.
I decided to skip dinner that evening. When my foster father noticed my absence at the dinner table, he called out for me. I went downstairs, and he urged me to eat, but I stood firm in my decision.
What puzzled me was that Eric was in the house, yet he never joined us for meals. Moreover, my foster father had specifically called for me, not Eric.
"Alright, if you're not hungry, that's fine," he said, focusing on his food, devouring his meat with so much pleasure.
"But if you change your mind, just let me know." I thought about his words – he wasn't the one preparing the meals. Just as I was about to head back upstairs, a car horn sounded, and I knew it was our foster mother returning with Mira. I rushed downstairs and outside to greet them. Mira looked gaunt, her weight loss was scary. She resembled a shadow of her former self.
"Hey Mira" I hugged her
"Hey. Baby sis" She replied weakly hugging me more tightly. "I missed you" she cried.
"Welcome, Mum!" I said, helping Mira into the house. Our foster mother shot Mira a scornful glance, almost as if a threatened one. For the first time since we'd arrived, Mira looked frightened.
"What's wrong?" I whispered to Mira.
"Nothing," she whispered back, forcing a smile. I guided her inside, supporting her frail frame. She greeted our foster father, who was still eating in the dining room.
"Welcome, my daughter," he said calmly, his voice sending a chill down my spine. Our foster mother entered, affectionate with her husband.
"I'm home, honey," she said, embracing and kissing him. I wondered if I was overthinking things or if something was genuinely off. After helping Mira to bed and covering her up, I sat beside her, stroking her hair.
"Mira, what did the doctor say?" I asked softly.
"Nothing really," she replied, seeming uneasy.
"Are you sure? How did you lose so much blood without any underlying condition?" Mira's expression changed, and she smiled wryly.
"Do you want to go back to Sister Margaret?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.
"You said you loved it here." I replied
"I'm sorry for dragging you into this," she said, my voice barely above a whisper with hues of weakness.
"Into what, Mia?" I asked, her eyes locked on mine. "Please, just get better," I urged.
"Lila. I'm really sorry for dragging you into this. The doctor had said.." She was about saying something when our foster mother barged in.
"Mira will be staying in my room from now on"