A Hatred Most Pure novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Pia

Cora's POV

Pia sat on the edge of the chair by the hearth with both hands around a cup of hot milk.

She wouldn't let go of it.

The swollen eye had gone purple at the edges.

Ansel stood by the door with his arms folded and said nothing, because I had asked him to say nothing.

"He did that tonight," I said. "Didn't he."

"After supper." Pia's voice was thin. "I looked at you across the hall.

"I didn't even mean to. He said I'd made him look foolish in front of the heralds."

"Pia."

"It's not the first time." She turned the cup. "It's only the first time it showed."

I had known her since she was six.

She had been the quiet one, with the plaits, who held my coat on the pier while I did terrible things.

"I used to push you in the harbor," I said.

"You pushed everyone in the harbor."

"I did."

"You were the only one who ever pulled me out." A corner of her mouth moved.

"I was eleven. You hauled me up the ladder by my hair.

"You told me I was an idiot for not learning to swim."

"I remember."

"You were right. I learned."

For a moment neither of us said a thing, and I almost laughed.

Then her face went still.

"I saw him do it, Cora."

The fire shifted.

"I was on the harbor wall.

"Dietrich's father stood at the corner of the fish sheds with his arms crossed. He said, Go on, boy.

"And Dietrich dropped the bar."

My hand went to my throat.

"He looked pleased," Pia said. "That was the part I couldn't forget.

"He was sixteen, and he stood there afterward and wiped his hands on his trousers."

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