I knew I needed to know the truth about Justine, she knew too much about this place to have never been here, I took a deep breath, "Justine, tell me honestly, do you know Sephrina? So we can stop pretending this is just some random forest," I said forcefully.
She looked at her feet, fiddling again. "Yes, I know her," She said quietly.
She began to walk again, this time more briskly.
"How could I not know her?" She added loftily.
I glared at her. But seeing that she looked on the verge of crying I softened.
"Tell me the truth, please," I said.
A vacant look entered her eyes. She shook her head, "I can't."
"I need to know the truth," I replied firmly.
She flashed me a glare, "Why? What does it matter anyway?"
"It just does," I snapped back.
My Bella was in such danger. I needed the truth. I needed Sephrina, whether I liked it or not. I felt an unceasing sorrow.
"You're hiding something," hissed Justine. "I know that much. What are you hiding from me?"
Pain came over me lashing at me, clawing its way in. Even with all my walls, it barged in.
My voice cracked as I said the words, "I'm his brother."
She looked at me, perplexed. Then her eyes widened, "You don't mean," She stuttered. "Jadyn?"
Then she began to laugh. She started to tip over from laughter. I made to steady her.
"Of course you're his brother," She was laughing hysterically, batting my concerned efforts away, "You even look like him! It's so obvious!"
I was the slightest bit relieved that she hadn't stabbed me yet. But anger coursed under my skin, rising to my hands and to my head.
"I am not my brother," I growled.
She stopped laughing. Her expression changed to one of pain.
"My father was always saying things like that," She mused as if she was clawing her way to a better time. "He was part of the survivalist community."
I'd heard of the survivalists. They were elusive and clever fighters, women and men alike. They were not people you messed with. They had lived off the land for a long time and had their own rules and ways.
Bella and I had run into a few communities when we were traveling between villages. They were friendly enough. They always offered us a bit of food, sometimes shelter for a night, but it was clear we were guests, not there to stay. They didn't like outsiders very much and for good reason.
She took a deep breath, "My mother was a village girl." She avoided my eyes.
This was very surprising. Marrying a survivalist if you were a villager was an offence that would get you exiled from your community.
Everyone knew that.
In mine and Bella's own village there had been a young woman and her son who were run out when they were discovered to be the child and wife of a survivalist.
How Justine felt about her heritage was not evident in her expression. But a child of a survivalist and villager was welcome in neither village nor community. Some went so far as to call them "Children of Tainted Blood" and when they caught people went so far as to brand them.
Justine just by lineage was an outsider. No wonder she lived so far away from all civilization. I didn't laugh at her or cringe away. I finally could make some sense of Justine's life and her anger.
I felt pity for her, but I still needed answers.