Withering Rose (Once Upon A Curse Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

cupped my cheek in her warm palm,
rubbing the last tear away. Then she leaned forward and kissed my
brow. "My darling Omorose, you'll learn to be brave. And this
journey with your father is the first step."
    "Ro Ro," a little squeaking voice said from
behind my mother.
    I smiled at my little sister. She was barely
two and still wobbly on her feet as she walked closer to me.
    "Ro Ro brave," she said confidently.
    I laughed. "Thanks, sissy."
    But she shook her head as though she could
sense the defeat in my tone. "Ro Ro brave!" she repeated adamantly,
and then she held out her stuffed bear, an offering to me. It was
the same bear I grew up playing with, the one I doubted she
remembered that I had given to her on the day she was born.
    "You keep Mr. Winky until I get back," I
murmured, peeking at my mother to see her eyes shining proudly at
both of us. I was trying to be brave, to be an example for my
little sister just like Mother had told me to be. But my sister
just shook her head and stomped her foot, even more stubborn than
me, and held out Mr. Winky again.
    "Take him with you, darling," Mother told me
gently.
    I grabbed the little brown bear, clutching
him to my chest the way I used to when he was my toy. The soft
touch of his fur was comforting, and he smelled like home. Then I
hugged them both goodbye and climbed into the carriage next to my
father. He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me to his side,
offering the silent strength he knew I needed.
    I tried to be brave as the carriage rolled
away.
    I didn't once look over my shoulder for one
last peek of my mother, my sister, and my home.
    But I wish I had.
    As I hug Mr. Winky to my chest now, he still
smells like the fresh garden scent of home. A place I will never
see again. A place I hardly remember. But I breathe in the essence
of the people I love, trying to form their images in my mind. My
mother's wild auburn hair is easy to remember because I see it in
the mirror every day. Her rosy skin, always a hint away from a
blush, was the same as my own. But her face is harder to see. I
remember her eyes, their mix of gold and green that reminded me of
a sunny spring day. The rest is blurred. Did she have my nose? My
chin? And what about my sister? What would she look like now? She
was so little when we left. Her chestnut hair had barely started
growing. Her eyes were green too, I think. Her skin was darker,
like my father's. But what I remember most is the sound of her
laugh, so intoxicating that whenever I heard it, I would laugh too,
and together we would fall into a fit of giggles for no reason at
all.
    Be brave.
    Those were their parting words to me.
    And how have I honored that request? By
hiding, by pretending my life away, by cowering in the corner. Even
now, I'm locked away in my room, running from my fears instead of
facing them.
    No more.
    I can't do it anymore.
    It's time to be brave.
    I'm not sure how long I sit alone in my
room, hugging that old bear to my chest. But when the doorknob
turns and my father's head pokes through, I finally have the
courage to say the words I've wanted to say for so long.
    "Papa, I'm leaving." A weight lifts from my
chest as soon as they are spoken. And before my doubts can take
over, I push through the fear and continue. "I want more than a
life of hiding. I want more than a life of fear. I can't stay here
anymore. I yearn for freedom, for adventure. I yearn to be myself,
to find a place where I belong. So I'm leaving. With or without
you, I'm leaving, and you can't stop me."
     
     

 
     

     
     
    He doesn't say anything. Instead, my father steps
fully into the room and shuts the door behind him, watching me
quietly. He traverses the small space quickly, sitting across from
me on my reading chair, clasping his hands together on his lap. He
looks older than I've ever seen him. The wrinkles across his brow
suddenly seem deeper. His hair suddenly seems grayer. And something
in his expression is so unbearably forlorn that I need to