The Centre(70)

Moments later, a kind of embarrassment crept into the room. He started clearing his throat, and he walked toward his desk and rustled some papers around.

“Yes. Would you … have you had anything to eat, dear? You both should eat before you go out.”

He sounded apologetic, which made me, in turn, ashamed. I suddenly didn’t know what to do with my arms. They felt long and gangly lying by my sides. I picked up my empty glass for no reason. A vague urge to destroy myself passed through me. But I swallowed that down too.

And that’s when I said, “Listen, I should go. Shiba will be back any minute.”

“Oh. That’s fine. I didn’t do anything wrong, I hope?”

“No. Of course not. But I should go.”

One of those two scenarios unfolded. Let’s just say the former, that I didn’t stupidly bend to his wishes. The second would be, after all, too degrading. Either way, he kissed me on the cheek to say goodbye, and that kiss felt like a kind of contract between us.

“You won’t tell Shiba?” his kiss asked.

“It never happened,” my cheek answered back.

As I was leaving, I turned to look at him. He had his back to the door and was facing the photograph of his father once more. He raised his glass to it.

“Innovate,” he said softly before taking a sip.

In a daze, I went upstairs to Shiba’s room to wait for her. My head felt foggy, and my thoughts jumbled, so I lay on her bed to rest for a moment. My body was like lead. I felt it grow heavier and heavier until it was as if it sank through the bed itself and into the ground. Then, having fallen beneath the surface, I was swimming in the depths. An enormous octopus approached me. It unfurled a sharp shard of steel from its tentacle into the palm of my hand and waited, as if offering that same tentacle for me to cut off. I hesitated, looking up to see how far beneath the surface I had sunk, and heard a voice. It was Shiba. Her voice guided me back to the surface.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked groggily.

“You were knocked out. That’s Kiran on the phone. I was telling her we’d be late.”

“No, we won’t, I’m ready to go.”

“I’ll call you back,” she said and hung up. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, yeah,” I said, sitting up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“You’re drunk.”

“No I’m not.”

“I can smell it. And you look terrible.”

“I was just resting. I had like, a glass or two, that’s all,” I replied and stumbled out of her bed. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look well. Have you been crying?” she asked. I’m not sure if I had been before or not, but upon hearing those words, I burst into tears. “Anisa! What’s wrong?”

“I just—I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know if it’s right,” I choked out.

“What? If what’s right?” She sat next to me and wiped my tears. “What happened?”

“It’s just, everything. This whole Centre business. Do you really know what it even is?”

“Huh? I thought we’d been through this.”

“Yes,” I spluttered. “But where’s the line, Shiba? Where’s the line?”

She moved away from me.

“What do you mean?”

“Those four,” I said. “Have you ever asked yourself why they’re doing it?”

“Where were you just now?” she asked.

“It’s just about stroking their own … egos. That’s all,” I blubbered.

“Are you listening to me, Anisa? Where were you just now? Were you with my dad?”

“Uh, yeah, we were just chatting, in his study.”

“And drinking?”

“He was just telling me some stories, about his father and—”

“He loves to tell his stories.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Especially to the ones like you.”

“Oh yeah? And what about the ones like you?” I deflected. “Have you ever asked yourself why you’re working for them?”

“You are so drunk.”

“Tell me, how long are you going to play at being daddy’s little girl?”

“Ha! Daddy’s little girl? Anisa, trust me, I’m walking into this with my eyes wide open. If you had just stayed with me a little bit longer, you would have seen. Instead, you shifted your attention to those guys the minute we got here.”

“That’s not true,” I said defensively.

“No?”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to sound sober. “But I’m seeing things clearly now. And I’m asking you something serious. Are you sure this is what you want to do? Sometimes we inherit things we may not actually want.”

She laughed bitterly. “You don’t get to choose what you inherit. You think I haven’t thought about this? I have had years to consider. But thank you, really, for your input after a week of seeing what my life is like.”

“You know you’re never actually going to be given a seat at their table, right? They’re just humoring you. And anyway, you shouldn’t even want it. It’s covered with blood, that seat.”