Aunt Rosaria had declaimed her declamation, and then she had fallen silent. Not just quiet – silent. Eva had to check three times to be sure her elderly relative was still breathing.
She’d tried to ask questions a few times, but Rosaria stopped her with a raised hand each time. Finally, Eva fell silent as well, focusing on the road. “Drive straight” was an easy enough direction to follow, after all. So she drove straight, and worried at the feeling “archetypes” left in her mind.
“Left at the stop sign.” Rosaria’s voice broke the silence. Eva jerked the wheel but caught herself quickly. “And then the first left. Stop at the gate.”
Left, left, stop. Eva didn’t answer. It didn’t seem the time for unnecessary words, and, besides, her heart was in her throat. Left, at a stop sign holding down three cornfields and a wheat field. Left, into a gravel driveway that went two car-lengths before stopping at a high iron gate.
Iron. Eva stopped the car, turned it off, and tilted her head to Rosaria. Now what?
“Use your words, Evangaline. Now we wait. Willard will either come get us, or he won’t. If he doesn’t, we leave him a message. If he does – well, then, you are educated further on what it means to be of this family. Something Asta sorely neglect-“
The gate swung open.
“Very good. We walk, of course. Don’t bother locking the car.” Rosaria swung out of her seat. “Well? Come on.”
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