[ But he falls silent when Nadine breaks the silence. Her voice is high, girlish, but there's steel in it. Somehow, against all odds, in spite of a catatonic mother and a cruelly indifferent father, she practically radiates confidence. Byerly had half-forgotten that - how utterly sure of herself she was - and there isn't much he gives himself credit for, but he gives himself credit for that. He was always there - taking the blows, deflecting the attention, making her lunches, scheming and dealing to get her clothes so she didn't show up to school raggedy...By might be a mess, he might be a disaster of a man, he might be confused and cowardly and uncertain of his path in life, he might be stripped of honor, but he made Nadine stronger. If he did nothing else in life, he did that.
"I am staying at school." She's speaking in English. With Byerly, in the present memory, it was French.
There's no sign of surprise from his father. There's no sign of anger. There's no sign of anything. In a flat voice, in French, he says, "You'll not be staying where he can touch you."
Byerly, in the present day, presses his eyes shut in misery and shame. Byerly of the past clenches his fist around his fork so hard that it's almost astonishing that blood doesn't drip from his hand. Strangled, spitting, snarling in French, with a hot rage that bears no resemblance to his usual cold anger, he says, "I've never done anything to her, you fucking fool, you fucking - "
"He has never," Nadine joins in, the steel of her voice wavering as a hotter emotion of her own creeps into it.
Their father reaches for a piece of bread. "I'm willing to pay for the post so you can notify your friends," he says. There's a tilt to his head that suggests that he expects some sort of thanks for his magnaminity.
"Is it the money?" By asks, visibly trying to calm himself down. Visibly failing. "If it's about money, just take it out of my inheritance. Take it out of - Take me out of school." Then, with a slam of his fist against the table, "They fucking lied to you, and you're too fucking stupid to understand it. You have a mutie's fucking brain!"
It's a provocation that his sister reacts to visibly, stiffening, but his father hardly even seems to register it. He just keeps chewing the stale bread. ]
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[ But he falls silent when Nadine breaks the silence. Her voice is high, girlish, but there's steel in it. Somehow, against all odds, in spite of a catatonic mother and a cruelly indifferent father, she practically radiates confidence. Byerly had half-forgotten that - how utterly sure of herself she was - and there isn't much he gives himself credit for, but he gives himself credit for that. He was always there - taking the blows, deflecting the attention, making her lunches, scheming and dealing to get her clothes so she didn't show up to school raggedy...By might be a mess, he might be a disaster of a man, he might be confused and cowardly and uncertain of his path in life, he might be stripped of honor, but he made Nadine stronger. If he did nothing else in life, he did that.
"I am staying at school." She's speaking in English. With Byerly, in the present memory, it was French.
There's no sign of surprise from his father. There's no sign of anger. There's no sign of anything. In a flat voice, in French, he says, "You'll not be staying where he can touch you."
Byerly, in the present day, presses his eyes shut in misery and shame. Byerly of the past clenches his fist around his fork so hard that it's almost astonishing that blood doesn't drip from his hand. Strangled, spitting, snarling in French, with a hot rage that bears no resemblance to his usual cold anger, he says, "I've never done anything to her, you fucking fool, you fucking - "
"He has never," Nadine joins in, the steel of her voice wavering as a hotter emotion of her own creeps into it.
Their father reaches for a piece of bread. "I'm willing to pay for the post so you can notify your friends," he says. There's a tilt to his head that suggests that he expects some sort of thanks for his magnaminity.
"Is it the money?" By asks, visibly trying to calm himself down. Visibly failing. "If it's about money, just take it out of my inheritance. Take it out of - Take me out of school." Then, with a slam of his fist against the table, "They fucking lied to you, and you're too fucking stupid to understand it. You have a mutie's fucking brain!"
It's a provocation that his sister reacts to visibly, stiffening, but his father hardly even seems to register it. He just keeps chewing the stale bread. ]
Ah.