"You slept here, didn’t you?" My father spat. "You cursed this place with your wretched existence. And now my pigs—my investnts—are ruined because of you."
The pigs were dead because of ? I didn’t get it. Did the Moon Goddess carve their skins out or sothing?
Why were there no noises? Father was right. This wasn’t ordinary. But it definitely wasn’t . I wasn’t even covered in blood. Could they not see?
Co to think of it, this only proved their point that this was done by so extraterrestrial force. aning, the Moon Goddess.
But why did she keep doing this to ?
Father’s grip tightened on my hair, and for a horrifying mont, I thought he might slam my face back into the carcasses.
"I didn’t," I whimpered, trying to swallow down the bile rising in my throat. "I just—I just slept! That’s all I did, I—"
His foot pressed harder against my spine, forcing closer to the bodies.
I nearly vomited.
"Then tell ," his voice was annoyingly low now, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe it ant rcy. "Did anyone else sleep here with you? If it wasn’t you, then who?"
I froze.
Mateo.
He did.
Had he? Had he really? Or had he left before the pigs—before this ss happened?
And if he had left, then where the hell was he now?
Had he gone ho or was he working a shift? Would I get him in trouble too? Why’d I always get people in trouble?!
I swallowed hard, my head. If I told my father about him, if I so much as ntioned that soone else had been here with , would it even matter? He already believed I was to bla.
But Mateo...
Mateo had been here. He had been with . And he—he had to know sothing. I wasn’t accusing him or anything because I knew deep down that there was no way such a kind man could do sothing so devious.
But he could have seen or heard sothing, right?
I clenched my jaw, trying to think, but thinking was hard when the weight of my father’s boot was threatening to snap my spine in half.
A shaky gasp left and I shut my eyes hard. I silently prayed Mateo wouldn’t get in trouble for this. All he had done was make feel better last night and I was about to get him in trouble.
"Mateo," I whispered.
My father’s grip on my hair stilled.
"What?"
I was reluctant to provide any further information. Heaven knows the last thing I wanted to do was to get the man who had shown kindness in trouble.
But it was too late now. Father wanted more information and he wouldn’t stop until he got it.
"There—there was soone else here last night." I licked my dry lips, forcing the words out. "A—a worker. He stayed with ."
Dad’s silence was terrifying. Say sothing, please.
My eyelids were shut tight while I awaited whatever ca next.
Then, he hand yanked upright by my hair, dragging off the pile of corpses and tossing to the ground like discarded trash.
I hit the dirt hard, coughing as I curled in on myself, desperate to escape the sll of death clinging to my skin.
My father stood over , breathing heavily.
"A worker," he repeated.
I nodded weakly.
He stared down at , then let out a slow, humorless chuckle.
"You think I’m stupid?"
I blinked up at him, confused and still wobbling. "W-what?"
His boot suddenly collided with my ribs.
I yelped, curling tighter.
"You think I don’t know when you’re lying?" He kicked again, and this ti, a sharp pain splintered through my side—stealing the air from my lungs.
"I’m not—" I wheezed.
But he wasn’t listening.
"You want to bla so worker for your incompetence? For your failure?" His voice was rising, booming like a storm about to crack the sky open.
"You’d rather drag so poor bastard into your ss than take responsibility for what you’ve done?!"
What? Lies? Dad knew way too well that I wasn’t the type to lie or try to stain another’s reputation just to get myself out of a ss.
What? Was it discovered that I was an Oga and he suddenly unlearned everything he knew about ?
"I didn’t do it!" I scread, tears glossing my eyes. "I swear!"
The response I got was a kick. This one to my back.
I gasped as a strangled sob escaped my lips while pain flared across my entire body. This was more hellish than hell. My body burned like it was on fire.
It hurts... everywhere.
For a mont, all I could do was lie there, shaking. My breath ca in shallow, ragged gasps.
And then...
"This Mateo guy, find him and bring him here. NOW!"
I barely processed my father’s order. My mind was spinning, my body quivering from shock.
But then I saw the workers move.
Saw them exchange glances.
Saw so nod before turning and dispersing into the estate in hurried footsteps.
My stomach clenched and unclenched.
They were looking for him.
For Mateo.
And I had just led them straight to him. To trouble.
.
.
The waiting was the worst part.
No, scratch that—the waiting, plus the feeling of dead pig flesh clinging to my skin, plus the sheer humiliation of being treated like dirt in front of the entire estate...
...That was the worst part.
I was curled in on myself, trying to process the pain radiating from my ribs, trying to hold my breath so I wouldn’t retch from the stench, when I heard the voices.
High-pitched. Familiar. Annoying.
Oh, fantastic.
My sisters had arrived.
Rosa and Camila
"¡Dios mío! What happened here?!" Rosa shrieked in disbelief.
"I think a massacre happened, Rosa. The corpses kind of give it away." Camila’s voice, on the other hand, was full of sarcasm.
As always.
I forced myself to lift my head, wincing as I did. There they stood, my two older sisters, dressed as if they were on their way to a beauty salon, not into a pigsty filled with death.
My dear Rosa, the golden child, the one who always seed to know everything, was already taking in the scene with calculating eyes.
Camila, anwhile, looked utterly disgusted, covering her nose with the edge of her shawl as she eyed the dead pigs like they were beneath her.
My father let out a huff of frustration. "Your sister," he spat, his glare giving killer chills, "decided to retaliate for her punishnt by slaughtering my pigs."
Oh, my God. I didn’t.
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