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“Keep drinking,” Ez said as she turned to Alice. “Kiddo, let’s go talk.”

“You can tell me the bad news,” Hugo said.

“Drink!” Alice said.

Hugo shrugged his shoulders and continueddrinking.

Alice turned to Ez. “Let’s go downstairs.”

They headed for the basement when the noise of Hugo gagging caught their attention. They turned to see Hugo convulsing and heaving. Alice’s face turned pale with fear.

Hugo clutched his abdomen and doubled over. With a mixture of guttural growls and violent belching, it sounded as if his insides were being ripped apart by something unholy.

The sound intensified until a torrent of thick, crimson blood gushed forth from his mouth. The blackish-red, macabre liquid splashed all over the hardwood floor. A splattering hit the red velvet couch and coffee table. A trail of blood dripped from his quivering lips, painting his chin red.

Hugo trembled, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Sweat dribbled down his face. Alice gasped and covered her mouth. Ez observed the events unfold without flinching.

“Ahhh,” Hugo wailed in agony. “It burns coming out. It burns.”

Ez snapped her fingers. The fluids disappeared. Hugo’s chin was clean, and the floor and furniture were free of the pooling liquid.

“Keep drinking,” Ez commanded. “You’ll get used to it. No matter how hard or disgusting or awful it tastes, you keep drinking. At least one of those a day. Two tonight. Do you hear me?”

Hugo nodded in agreement. He picked up the now almost black tube and resumed with his evening feeding. Ez and Alice continued downstairs.

They made their way into the wine cellar. The heels of Ez’s pumps echoed off the stone floor as she entered and shut the door behind her. The lights and shadows danced along the stone wall.

Alice moved over to her workbench, not daring to look Ez in the face for her upcoming scolding. She couldn’t. Alice knew this was her fault, and she had to hear it anyway. She twirled a pestle around in one of her mortar bowls.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” Ez asked.

“I’m okay,” Alice said.

“I didn’t ask if you were okay.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Alice,” Ez said. Alice snapped over at the mention of her full name. “Don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re not. Just . . . just tell me.”

Alice stopped twirling the pestle and turned to face Ez. She crossed her arms and leaned against her workbench. Her eyes watered as she held back tears. Her lips were pursed, holding back the words she wanted to say.

Her fingers danced along her arms to a nervous rhythm only she could hear. A beat created by her anxiety and fears echoing through her soul. Her touch was light, as if she was holding herself back out of fear she’d strike harder in deserving punishment. Each sensation grew her anxiety.

Alice finally said, “I . . . I’m barely holding it together. Holding it together for him. I know what this means. I’m well aware of what could happen, and I’m frightened.” Her tapping became more erratic as it matched the unease gnawing at her core.

She continued, “I messed up. I should have brought him with me or stayed behind . . .”

She paused. Alice scanned the room, her eyes darting from corner to corner, searching for an answer. The motionless vats. The empty wine presses. The bottles stacked neatly on the racks. Their special rack in the back. She begged the universe for an answer, pleaded for reprieve, but only found silence.

She stopped tapping and took a deep breath. She gazed at Ez with her red, tear-filled eyes. “I should have dealt with it. If I did, then Hugo would’ve never met me, and he’d be fine. He’d be great. He’d be normal . . . not what he is now. All because of me.” She sobbed as she buried her face in her hands.

The clicking of her heels against the stone drowned out Alice’s bawling as Ez moved to hug Alice, the top of her head resting slightly below Alice’s shoulders. Ez patted her on the back. Alice breathed deep.

“It’s okay, kiddo. It’s not your fault,” Ez said.

Ez’s arm was like the comfort of a warmblanket. Alice closed her eyes and relaxed her hands. She leaned her head into Ez’s shoulder. Her anxiety quelled with each breath she took.

“Then why does it feel like it is?”