Free Once Upon a Time: The Villains by Shea Berkley Page B

“Please.”
    “Good.”
    From that day forward, Evie’s only objective seemed to center on fattening me up. I didn’t complain. I ate whatever she put before me. Since it pleased her, I took my fill and asked for more. Day by day, moment by moment, I inserted myself into her life. My goal was to ease her burdens, to make her laugh. To make her love me. I would become so necessary, she wouldn’t be able to give me back. Soon I was up and about, helping her with house work, at which I excelled, and in her kitchen, where I showed signs of promise.
    I followed her instructions exactly. She praised me, and I lapped it up. Yet, every so often, a frown marred her countenance. Those days my heart fell, and my stomach ached horribly.
    “What’s wrong? Is the bread too salty?” I’d ask.
    “Nay.”
    “Too sweet?” I’d worry. “I put in exactly what you said.”
    “Nay. You’ve done well.” Evie looked me up and down and her frown would grow even deeper. “Eat more,” she urged.
    I took another bite of a hot dumpling smothered in gravy. With effort I swallowed. It was getting harder to eat as much as she demanded. Quietly, I pushed my plate away, my gaze focused on my shoes.
    “Surely you can eat one more bite?”
    I shook my head. “I’m full.” I lifted my head, dread piercing my heart. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
    She pushed her own plate away. “I don’t understand. You should be as plump as a little piglet and at least a few inches taller by now.” She examined my thin legs and counted the ribs sticking out of my chest. “Something is not right.”
    I didn’t understand it either. I ate constantly. If ever a person should be fat, it should be me.
    She bit her lip and sighed, “How will I keep the fox at bay if the chick refuses to grow? Hmm. This is an unexpected dilemma.” She slid her chair away from the table and stood. “Problems atop problems. I think best when I work.”
    Her disappointment in me burned my cheeks. My heart thudded heavily in my chest, as if it would stop beating from fear any minute. I shot to my feet and grabbed her plate and mine. I didn’t want to be a problem. I would work my fingers to the bone if she asked me too. At her surprised look, I said, “I like living here with you. If I could get fatter, grow bigger, I would. Just for you.”
    The frown disappeared, and she squeezed my arm. “I know you would. You’re a strange little thing. But it’s the way it is. I guess we’ll just have to live with it.”
    The days grew longer and the weeks extended into months, but within the back of my mind the fear of returning to the rat catcher kept me on task and edgy. Evie noticed. No matter how I tried to hide my concern, she saw, and in turn, grew concerned.
    “Come,” she said one afternoon and pulled me along behind her.
    She sat me before a small table she kept tucked in the parlor. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” In a few moments she returned with a round object wrapped in black velvet cradled in her hands. She set the orb on the table, slowly uncovered it and pulled a chair close. “Whatever I say, your future is still yours to make.”
    I’d heard women ask Evie to see their futures. Never would I have guessed this was how she’d done it. There was so much Evie had yet to show me. I leaned forward, excited and terrified to see who I’d become, and where I’d end up.
    Evie clutched my hand as she stared into the ball. Silent, painful minutes passed before she finally peeked up at me and gave me a sad little smile. “Your life has been one of pain. So much pain, so much heartache. Poor thing.”
    Tears sprung to my eyes. I didn’t want to think of the past. I wanted to know my future. I had to know.
    Her gaze returned to the ball and my gaze followed. I saw nothing. Only milky white swirls. “How do you—”
    “Shhh,” Evie said and peered deeper into the ball. My life played before her in little snippets, and she relayed comfort in small doses.