Chapter 12

Injustice (3)

“Why do you keep saying sorry!?” Lia shouted. She hugged her knees and placed her head over them. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

Tamara crawled to her side and embraced her. No words passed between the two of them and only their quiet sobs could be heard as if even the slightest movement could set off the rage of townspeople and pursue them again.

Once they had poured everything out, Tamara stood up and held her hand. Lia stared at the hand, wondering where did her mother get all the strength that she had. She looked regal despite her disheveled look which sent a tiny spark of envy to Lia who could never quite muster that kind of gracefulness.

When the adrenaline weaned off, Lia felt exhausted and sore. Moving was the last thing she wanted. She would rather lie down, do nothing, think nothing.

Tamara must have sensed this too. She smiled and held out her hands, grasping at Lia’s and pulling her up. “Come now, we need to treat our wounds.”

“Won’t they– follow?”

“Most people fear the woods. Others are just bad with directions.”

Not a direct answer, Lia noted. But she understood the implications. In all her months staying here, she had not seen many people coming in the woods. Still, she could not help but glance in all directions and strain her hears for any movements beside theirs.

She knew the people hated the witch. But she would never imagine the extent of their hate. Hate was even an understatement.

Lia stared at the back of her mother, as the other moved to her shelves and got medicines and gauges. Their racks were full of helpful things, not even the slightest indication of witchcraft.

Was Lia mistaken? She vowed to protect this family that she had. But it seemed like there were a lot more secrets to it than her mother was letting on. No matter how much she thought of it, she got nothing. Why…

“What do you mean why?” Tamara asked without lifting her eyes to meet Lia’s.

Stunned that she had said the word aloud, Lia chewed on her inner cheek and considered before speaking. “Why are you called the witch? Please, I want to know the truth,” she added when Tamara started to protest.

Tamara took a seat. She seemed so elegant but now, she looked small and weary.

“How,” Lia started, “did this start? Why are you the witch? I’ve been living with you but I haven’t seen you do any witchcraft. All you ever do is mix herbs and cook. Unless you are creating a poison that I am not aware of.”

“There is always a fine line between poison and medicine, just a small change in dose and you can turn something helpful to something deadly. But that’s not what you want to hear. You want to know why I’m called the witch.”

Lia nodded and braced herself for what was to come.

“Once upon a time, there was a young lady who was deeply in love with the most handsome and kind man she ever met. They married and been blessed with a small child. They’ve been happy for some time. Then a tragedy came and the child was burned along with her marriage and she was sent to some remote place. I guess, up until then people have only tolerated her because they thought she was healing them and partly because of the husband. But when the fire broke out so as their hidden hatred. Her love for medicine was called witchcraft and they hunted her for that, feared her knowledge of healing. The end.”

Lia gulped and tried to process what she had heard. But it was too much. She did not know if that was because of the injustice Tamara received or that resigned look on her face.

“The husband, is he rich? You said they tolerated you because of him,” she asked instead.

Tamara considered for a while. “You could say that.”

“Why don’t you fight back? Clear your name?”

“I did. I fought hard, telling everyone who listens that health should be a priority for everyone, not just the rich but look where it got me. I lost hope when I lost my child. So when I saw you, I thought it was my second chance to try to live a life and care for someone.”

Tears streamed down her face. This woman. Her mother. It was such a shame that the original Lia did not care for Tamara. But Lia was here now.

“What happened to your husband?”

“Someone came along.”

“What the hell?!” Lia received a warning glare from Tamara. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

The world did not deserve someone like Tamara.

“Come now, that’s an old story to be worked up with.”

+++++

As Lia lie down on her bed that night, she recounted everything that happened. She winced when she remembered the mob. She thought they would not be able to go out of it alive.

Tamara seemed to have forgotten that and moved on. But Lia was not as magnanimous as her mother. She noted down on her mental list all the things they did. One day. One day she would prove all of them wrong.