Authors: Francine Pascal

Exposed (19 page)

Chloe didn't know where to begin with her questionsâ
Created by? Kim is my age and she can read ancient Egyptian writing?

“Most of us in this pride are from Eastern Europeâ”

“Wait,'pride'?”

“Yes.” The girl looked up at her coolly. If she'd had a tail, it would have been thumping impatiently. “That is the congregation our people travel in. Like lions.”

“And Sergei is the leader of the â¦ Pride?”

“No, just this one in California. There are four in the New World. Well, were. The one in the East is also primarily
made up of Eastern European Mai.” Kim flipped a few pages and showed another map with statistics and inscriptions, lines and arrows originating from Africa and pointing toward different places: migration routes to lower Africa, Europe, and farther east. “The pride in New Orleans tends to be made up of Mai who stayed in sub-Saharan Africa the longest. They like the heat,” she added with a disapproving twitch of her nose.

“And the fourth one?”

“It was â¦ lost,” Kim said diffidently. “Anyway, we have been driven all over the world, away from our homes. Our pride managed to live in Abkhazia for several hundred years after we left the Middle East for good.” She pointed to a little area shaded pink to the northwest of Russia, on the Black Sea. “The people there remained polytheistic long after the Roman Empire declined, Christianity swept the world, and Baghdad was destroyed by the Mongols.”

“I get the feeling that there's a âbut' in here somewhereâ¦.”

“Many Abkhazians were driven out in the middle of the nineteenth century to Turkey by domestic warfare with the Georgians. We got caught up in it and families separated, some staying, some fleeing, some going to the Ukraine or St. Petersburg. And then again, not so long ago, just when some started to move back and reunite with lost branches, there was new violence.”

She put the book down and twitched her nose
againâmore like a rabbit than a cat, Chloe decided. It seemed to signal a change in emotion.

“I'm an orphan, just like you,” the girl continued bluntly. “My parents were killed or separated during the Georgian-inspired violence in 1988, before the Wall fell. They say I had â¦ a sister â¦,” she said slowly, looking at Chloe with hope. “A year older than me. When I saw you come in, I thought we looked alikeâand â¦ maybe â¦”

Maybe a little, except for the ears
, was Chloe's first, defensive reaction. If you took away the ears, they actually
did
look a little similar: dark hair, fair skin, light eyes, high cheekbones.

What if it were true? Chloe had
always
wanted a sibling, especially a sister; Amy was the closest she had, but it still wasn't quite the same, like someone you could whisper to in the middle of the night or talk about your crazy parents with. Someone who you could scream at when she borrowed your favorite piece of clothing without telling you and then brought it back reeking of cigarette smoke or just plain ruined.

Someone who could tell you it was okay when you suddenly grew claws.

So maybe she's a little freaky, but a sister is a sisterâ¦
.

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