posted online to publically humiliate his father. Cal in his bedroom with the naked woman under him. Only this scene is shot from above, from the surveillance cameras in the manor.
There’s Cal and the redheaded woman. There’s seventeen-year-old Seth surprising them both, and then running away. And then you see the woman sit up, totally distraught. The red wig falls off her head, and she’s completely bald underneath. She’s lying there naked, except for her golden pendant.
“It was Mom?” says Seth, his face blank. Then the rage comes back. “ You were screwing my mom? When she was dying? ”
“It wasn’t like that.” Cal furiously shuts off the image. “She was having a good day. She wanted—”
“Stop!” Seth covers his ears. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You have to hear it, Seth.” I put my hands on his tattooed arms and pull them down so he can listen.
“Your mother was so embarrassed.” Cal stares down at his shoes. “I didn’t want her to die being embarrassed in front of her own son.”
“So you let me think the worst of you? You let me brand you a cheater?”
“I was going to tell you after she passed away,” Cal says.
“After the funeral? But by then I had already posted it.”
“Yes,” says Cal.
They both stare at each other.
“The only good thing,” Cal says, trying to get the words out, “is that it launched your career. Your mother would be so proud of you going viral. She would be so proud of Veritas Rex .” Tears course down his face.
“You’re lying,” says Seth. “She’d be horribly ashamed. She’d hate knowing the world saw that video of her.”
“Well, yes,” says Cal. “That too. But she’d love you anyway. She’d still be proud of you and of what you’ve accomplished. Just like I am.”
Seth crumbles. There’s no other word for it. He absolutely crumbles. And then they’re both hugging and crying, and there’s no need for me anymore.
There’s no need for me anymore.
And the force of that realization hits me like a stone. My work here is done. And I wait for it, because I know Cal’s going to say it. He’s going to say it again like the real rat bastard he is.
“Thank you, Blanca. Thank you so much, sweetheart. You’ve brought my son back to me!” Cal tries to hug me, but I slide away.
He continues talking. “You don’t have to be a Vestal anymore. You can be your own person and think for yourself. I can release you from your pledge. I release you !”
See what I mean?
Cal thinks he can free me.
Chapter Eight
The only way I’ll be happy is if Cal locks me in my cloister from the outside, but he refuses. So I deadbolt the door on my end, but it’s not as good.
Whenever a student at Tabula Rasa was in ethical danger, Headmaster Russell would lock the offender in a sequestered cell. That way, the rest of us were safe from whatever trouble the perpetrator was causing. But it was also helpful for the wrongdoer. There, within his cloistered confinement, he could meditate on our values.
We are beacons of light. We are a sacred fire that won’t burn out. We remind the world there is a better way to live.
When the internment was over, the released student emerged a model of perfect behavior, completely loyal to Tabula Rasa, and ready to rejoin the Brethren. But more than that, every returned individual radiated peaceful contentment. It was as if cloistering was a crucible that burned away every impurity.
Headmaster Russell isn’t here to guard me, so I must be my own warden. I’ll cloister myself until my purity is secure. I won’t leave until Cal gives up this sick idea of releasing me from my contract.
But he won’t.
“Think for yourself,” Cal says through the door. “Do you want to be locked in here? You don’t need me to tell you what to do.”
He’s such a bastard.
“Seth will be here any minute. Don’t you want to see him?”
The wicked part of me does want to see Seth. That’s another reason
There’s Cal and the redheaded woman. There’s seventeen-year-old Seth surprising them both, and then running away. And then you see the woman sit up, totally distraught. The red wig falls off her head, and she’s completely bald underneath. She’s lying there naked, except for her golden pendant.
“It was Mom?” says Seth, his face blank. Then the rage comes back. “ You were screwing my mom? When she was dying? ”
“It wasn’t like that.” Cal furiously shuts off the image. “She was having a good day. She wanted—”
“Stop!” Seth covers his ears. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You have to hear it, Seth.” I put my hands on his tattooed arms and pull them down so he can listen.
“Your mother was so embarrassed.” Cal stares down at his shoes. “I didn’t want her to die being embarrassed in front of her own son.”
“So you let me think the worst of you? You let me brand you a cheater?”
“I was going to tell you after she passed away,” Cal says.
“After the funeral? But by then I had already posted it.”
“Yes,” says Cal.
They both stare at each other.
“The only good thing,” Cal says, trying to get the words out, “is that it launched your career. Your mother would be so proud of you going viral. She would be so proud of Veritas Rex .” Tears course down his face.
“You’re lying,” says Seth. “She’d be horribly ashamed. She’d hate knowing the world saw that video of her.”
“Well, yes,” says Cal. “That too. But she’d love you anyway. She’d still be proud of you and of what you’ve accomplished. Just like I am.”
Seth crumbles. There’s no other word for it. He absolutely crumbles. And then they’re both hugging and crying, and there’s no need for me anymore.
There’s no need for me anymore.
And the force of that realization hits me like a stone. My work here is done. And I wait for it, because I know Cal’s going to say it. He’s going to say it again like the real rat bastard he is.
“Thank you, Blanca. Thank you so much, sweetheart. You’ve brought my son back to me!” Cal tries to hug me, but I slide away.
He continues talking. “You don’t have to be a Vestal anymore. You can be your own person and think for yourself. I can release you from your pledge. I release you !”
See what I mean?
Cal thinks he can free me.
Chapter Eight
The only way I’ll be happy is if Cal locks me in my cloister from the outside, but he refuses. So I deadbolt the door on my end, but it’s not as good.
Whenever a student at Tabula Rasa was in ethical danger, Headmaster Russell would lock the offender in a sequestered cell. That way, the rest of us were safe from whatever trouble the perpetrator was causing. But it was also helpful for the wrongdoer. There, within his cloistered confinement, he could meditate on our values.
We are beacons of light. We are a sacred fire that won’t burn out. We remind the world there is a better way to live.
When the internment was over, the released student emerged a model of perfect behavior, completely loyal to Tabula Rasa, and ready to rejoin the Brethren. But more than that, every returned individual radiated peaceful contentment. It was as if cloistering was a crucible that burned away every impurity.
Headmaster Russell isn’t here to guard me, so I must be my own warden. I’ll cloister myself until my purity is secure. I won’t leave until Cal gives up this sick idea of releasing me from my contract.
But he won’t.
“Think for yourself,” Cal says through the door. “Do you want to be locked in here? You don’t need me to tell you what to do.”
He’s such a bastard.
“Seth will be here any minute. Don’t you want to see him?”
The wicked part of me does want to see Seth. That’s another reason
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