LAMIAE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX: BITTER WORDS

She no longer cared whether she would be exposed, she even wondered if it would be better to reveal herself when Arleta started laughing:

"Stop making fun with us. He's joking. Dagmara doesn't know anything, otherwise I'd know about it. She is not a secretive, lying girl."

"Blind all the more so."

"Will you finally finish or not?" Sandra growled at Alan like the Doberman. "If it doesn't work in a good way, then maybe blackmail will help. Either you shut up and leave her alone, or I'll talk to her and your entire reputation will be ruined. She will avoid you from afar, and when you approach her, she will turn away. Only you think you are a saint, but in reality your filth follows you everywhere."

"Do you think she will listen to you?" Everyone could hear the mockery in Alan's voice. "She doesn't even like you."

"Yeah, but she isn't really fond of you either, is she?" she repaid him bitterly. "At least I don't wish her any harm, yes, I don't like the hype surrounding her, but I don't pretend otherwise. It's some kind of fate that her mother had to die this year. If Dagmara weren't here now, we wouldn't be arguing and we wouldn't have to worry about her. She would still live in her Warsaw, absorbed in her daily routine, each of you must see that it would be better that way. It's not that I'm jealous of her, I just don't like the baggage in the form of her person," she took a breath for a moment, just as Dagmara rubbed her eyelids with her hand, because the terms used by Sandra brought tears to her eyes. "Casper, Arleta, I know you like her, but you can surely see how unfamiliar she is with our world. If only she were a year older, she would be your age Arleta, the problem would be solved any moment, but since that's not the case, we have to adjust. We can't say anything, these are the rules," Dagmara was surprised. It was true, she was not the age of Arleta and Alan, her mother had let her go to school a year earlier. But did it matter that much? How did Sandra know about this?

"Since you forced yourself into our lives," she spoke again, now addressing only Alan. "And it only happened because we care about Arleta's life, you do everything your own way. We can understand that you're friends with Arleta, but they're watching you, you can't be seen with auntie's granddaughter. Think about your actions, because you will bring misfortune not only to yourself, but also to Arleta, and if you succeed, you will also involve Dagmara!" at some point Sandra lost control and started screaming. "Stop taking personal revenge on auntie, focus on what's important, on what we all agreed to do, because one day, and believe me, it will be sooner than you expect, the date of the twenty-fourth of May will come and you will not be prepared for what will happen then. Listen to me, because I know what I'm saying. Come on Arleta, let's get out of here," Sandra said quickly to her friend. The girls left the boys, escaping through the other exit, other than the one at which Dagmara was standing directly.

The girl knew that Casper didn't leave, so she waited calmly when he flinched:

"As for you, I wouldn't have put it better," and he fled from the underground.

Only when everyone had disappeared did the girl dare to come out to Alan. It would seem that he should be devastated. It would seem that he wouldn't want to have a conversation with anyone now, especially with someone who was the direct cause of this discussion. Still, Alan didn't seem shocked by what he heard.

"Did you really want me to be here?" she asked quietly.

The boy looked into her eyes and only now realized that she was felt sorry.

Dagmara didn't cry often. In fact, she didn't remember crying at her mother's funeral. She explained it to herself that all the tears she had inside her were shed earlier, when she found out about the cancer, when they were both struggling with it, and finally, when the cancer defeated them. She thought that after such an event, nothing would be able to make her sad anymore. And yet the unsparing words directed at her hurt. Maybe not enough to make her cry, but enough to make her feel bad.

"I admit, not really," he replied after reflection. "But if you draw some conclusions from it, I'll say it was worth it."

"Yes, I did, but not to your advantage," she growled with conviction. "After what I heard, I'm only sure of one thing, I don't know why I'm wasting my time with you. They don't want to tell me what will happen in May, so I won't ask. I won't do anything that could harm my grandmother, and from what Sandra says, it appears that you want to harm her through me," her voice became almost a whisper.

A battle raged in her mind over whether or not to return to the residence, pack her things and move to Warsaw. With any luck, her grandmother wouldn't let her father know that her granddaughter was no longer living with her, and even if she did, so what? The father would have to either return from England or agree to let his daughter live with a friend from Warsaw. Knowing his attraction to a career as a financier, he would probably choose the second option.

"Sandra doesn't know what she's talking about," he said casually, as if the thesis that the girl was insane had already been clinically confirmed.

"Yes? Sandra mentioned that you were supposed to come to Warsaw to pick me up. It's not true?" she asked, hoping he would say yes, it's not true. But for some reason she had a feeling it would be different.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Alan's face. Watching him carefully, she could see that whenever he was inclined to confess the truth, he immediately found arguments within himself that ruined everything.

"Yes, there was an idea like that once," he finally said.

She knew she wouldn't add anything more, so she had to take the next step herself:

"Why? Why would anyone come?"

He shrugged, not to tell her that he didn't know, but to let her know that he wasn't allowed to talk about it.

"You have to ask your grandmother about that. You've just said that you don't see the point in wasting your time with me."

She didn't think he would pay so much attention to her words. That he would remember them so precisely that he would then use them against her.

"You're right," she began, surprised by his retort. "I just want to get out of here."

She turned her back to him, deciding to find the way back, the same way she came here. But before she left completely, his voice came to her:

"Don't you want to know why I didn't go?"

She stopped, but didn't turn around. Yes, she was more interested in that than the question of why anyone would come for her. She was curious about it, but she couldn't ask, not after what she told him.

"I had an important meeting, so instead of me, I sent someone I trust almost as much as I trust myself."

She looked at him, frowning. There were a few people in the compartment with her, but only two boys she suspected of being friends with Alan. Actually, one, because the other one was sleeping drunk.

"I remember him," she admitted, recalling that he had helped her with her suitcase.

Alan looked at her as if he expected to see someone else in this boy. As if she had solved a mystery he couldn't reveal.

"That's right, he wasn't you," she was more sure of that than the fact that she was a half-orphan.

"Not me," he repeated.

She never noticed how bright his eyes glowed. Now, in the semi-darkness, it even scared her a little, she was afraid of what he might do or say to her.

"You talked to him on the phone," she said, as she thought back to the day of her arrival, to the compartment when a couple got off. To the compartment where the mother was not interested in her mature child, to a woman with a tattoo and to two boys.

And suddenly she experienced a daze. That big smile, that optimism that she encountered in the compartment was deceptively similar to the one coming from Nikolai. And his assurance at the station: "I'm sure we'll meet again" - it had to be him, but how?

Dagmara took a few steps back. Reason beat against her hunch. The boy in the compartment didn't resemble Nikolai, a person cannot change the shape of his face, features, figure in a few days. It wasn't even physically possible.

"I have to go," she whispered, trying to get out of the underground as quickly as possible.