Wounded Little Gods by Eliza Victoria

Author:Eliza Victoria
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tuttle Publishing

“So, what’s up?” Loretta said. They were inside her house, Luciano sitting cross-legged on the floor, Emil standing behind her with his arms crossed, watching her add white paint to the little girl’s blue dress on the canvas.

Luciano felt like he was three seconds away from falling asleep, either from the turpentine or from being mesmerized by Loretta’s small brushstrokes. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Loretta replied without turning away from her canvas. “You look like you just had a big fight.”

Luciano stiffened and Emil cleared his throat. It was late afternoon, after Emil’s clinic hours. Luciano left his house early in the morning and they arrived at Loretta’s separately. They had not spoken since the night before.

“That’s a nice painting,” Emil said. “I don’t think you’ve ever painted canvas that large. Is it going to be a part of a series?”

“It’s a self-portrait,” Loretta said, and painted an angry black swatch over the girl’s eyes.

“Oh,” Luciano said, surprised and saddened.

There were words around the girl.

Why did they take us away?

You have no right.

Tell them that I am lost and I need saving.

Loretta started painting over some of the words with black paint.

Emil cleared his throat again.

“I don’t have any information about Clara,” he said, “save for her health records.”

“Did she need surgery?” Loretta asked.

“No, just medicine for arrhythmia. She’s also taking medication for anxiety.”

“Zoloft?” Loretta asked, glancing over a shoulder. “Anafranil?”

Loretta as a child had extreme panic attacks, leaving her a trembling, choking, incoherent mess in the middle of class, or while lining up at the school cafeteria. The attacks started when she was six, after she saw a playmate get crushed by a speeding truck. Before long, panic attacks preceded the arrival of her school bus, and she got left behind in her studies, a scenario that, for her high-achieving parents, simply would not do.

“She doesn’t worry me,” she said, turning back to her work. “That girl doesn’t remember anything, and if she does, she won’t be asking questions.”

“Then why did she approach Regina about it?” Luciano said. “I saw them get on a jeep. I thought they were heading here, but—” He lifted his hands in exasperation and slapped his knees. “Now I don’t know where they are.”

“You should have followed them.”

“I know.” But Luciano reacted too late, and he was afraid of what he would find. “They might head here next, so keep them here and try to get as much information from them as you can.”

Loretta kept on painting. She didn’t reply for so long that Luciano thought she didn’t hear.

“How old are you, Em?” she said.

“What?” Luciano said.

“What?” Emil said.

“How old are you?” Loretta repeated. “Based on your birth certificate.”

Emil sighed and sat on the floor. “I’m thirty-three.”

“And you’re still alone?”

“You’re still alone.”

“But you’re thirty-three. Luke and I, we’re not even thirty yet.”

“So there’s a deadline for these things?” But Emil was smiling, relaxing. Loretta had panic attacks, but she was the only one who could calm them down like this.

Emil said, “There was a girl once.

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