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243 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 1, 2018
I twiddled with my tassel while viewing the spectacular show that was Mansion Royale. The more I fidgeted with the golden tuft, the more it came undone. Braids untwisted, threads thinned out. Soon the tassel was merely a fray—a fringe no longer gilded, an unhemmed bunch of loose thread.
We prayed before breakfast. Papa blessed our meal and thanked God for the bounty. He said, “Make us content with what we have and prepare us for whatever may lie ahead.”
Mama interrupted. “Lord, keep us where we belong. We do not know how to be anywhere else. Please bless us—in the best high-class possible way—for as long as the Republic lives.”
She kept mumbling, until finally, she snapped. “Not the mansion, too! We don’t know how to be anywhere else! Puñeta!”
Her words and tone jolted me out of sadness and sympathy, and into fear. I let go of the curtain, which drifted for a moment in the air and landed on her back. The cloth confined her shakes, her mutters, her cries, and disguised her as part of the house. She was part of the house.
Her weeping was the mansion’s very voice.
“Promise me, you’ll always remember, none of this is normal. But we were not made for normal, and for that, I am sorry, my warrior girl,” Papa said. “Be brave, be smart, be kind, and have faith. Remember you are made of light.”