The Man She Betrayed

46. The Silent Girl

Ava's POV

Five years ago

I was a child of divorce. My mother was a really ambitious woman who wanted to change this world and do something that would actually matter. But my Dad was a simple man. He believed in living one's own life and surviving in this world. Their views on living were so different than each others that they ended up getting divorced.

I lived with Dad the whole year and spent my holidays with mom in their NGO. It was an adequate sized building where many homeless women lived under the same roof.

It was that one summer when I met that strange girl. I had a month off from my college and I decided to spend this time helping Mom in her work. The signs of increasing age were visible on my mother's face and her greying hair didn't escape my notice.

When I reached the house, many women that knew me came to meet me. They all loved me like their own daughter, probably because of whatever my mom had done for them.

All the women looked happy and enthusiastic, except one. She was beautiful, like really beautiful. The combination of fiery red hair and green eyes isn't that common so that would explain why I was ogling her. It made me a little upset with my boring brown hair and brown eyes.

I went to sleep that night and the next morning, when I woke up and went to the dining area, all the women were busy talking and chatting and making jokes. There she was, sitting in a corner, staring at the small amount of untouched scrambled eggs in her plate.

"Who is she, Mum?" I asked my mother who was sitting beside me.

"Clara. She has been here for eight months."

"Why is she... Um.. Like this?" I asked about her silence, furrowing my eyebrows.

"She is just another victim of life sweetheart. We found her in a hospital after she had a miscarriage. She was alone in the world, with nobody to look after her." she said, the corners of her lips turned downwards at her sight.

"Maybe she is an orphan who grew up on streets." I said.

"I don't think so. She doesn't speak but I see a sophisticated, educated and a loved woman when I see her." Mom hypothesised.

We turned our focus back to the boiled eggs and bread in our plates but something about her worried me. The fact that in such a young age, a beautiful girl like her was wasting her life in this place, it soured my mood.

"Does she not speak at all?" I asked.

"She does reply if you ask something. But as far as initiation a conversation is conversed, I have tried but no luck." Mom answered.

My eyes once again diverted to her and her plate was still as full as it was before. I sat there even after finishing my breakfast, noticing her eating pattern but she didn't eat more than one or two bites. After everyone was placing their empty plates on the counter, I noticed how she subtly put her full plates in the heap of empty plates that nobody noticed.

...

I have been here for three days and that woman, Clara, had been a constant source of stress for me. She doesn't eat, she doesn't talk, she doesn't do anything except staring at a distance while being lost in her thoughts.