The O'Hare Entertainment
Raina tasted something strange in her mouth—bitter and sour with a trace of sweetness lingering like a secret. It wasn’t the metallic tang of fear or the dull saltiness of sweat. It was more complicated. More human. She paused, hand hovering just above the rusted handle of their shanty’s door. That taste meant only one thing.
She wasn’t alone.
Turning slightly, she caught a familiar figure standing just off the narrow path, half-shrouded in shadow. Luke.
How long had he been standing there, watching her? She couldn’t tell. But the bitterness in her mouth sharpened.
“So it’s true… You’re working at the O’Hares’.” His voice cut through the humid air, laced with something cold. Accusation? Disgust? Whatever it was, it replaced the usual comfort Raina felt when Luke was around. She didn’t like how it shifted the taste in her saliva—from a sugary, warm familiarity to a jarring iciness that made her stomach knot.
“As a cleaner,” she replied, almost too quickly. “Yes.”
Her voice came out more defensive than she’d intended. She wasn’t lying, but the way Luke said it—“working at the O’Hares’”—felt wrong, like he was implying something else. Something worse.
She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Just helping her mother, Luna, who had once sworn she’d never let Raina near the darker corners of that place.
“You can clean the common areas,” Luna had warned, growling in half-formed words. “But never upstairs. Not the attic. Not the basement.”
Raina knew that tone—clipped, guttural. Whenever her mother spoke like that, the taste in her mouth turned rotten. It meant Luna was serious. Dangerously so.
So she obeyed.
Even when Cassandra, her old friend who now lived on the second floor of the mansion, smiled and greeted her with open arms.
“Rain! You’re here. I’m a little busy right now, but let’s talk later, okay?” Cassie, all dolled up in makeup and soft lighting, looked like someone from a dream Raina couldn't quite interpret.
“It’s okay, Mom. Cassie’s my friend. I can clean her room, right?” she once asked.
Cassie’s room smelled like perfume and whispered secrets. The emotional taste Raina picked up from her was unlike anyone else’s—sweet, strange, alluring. It warmed her from the inside.
But Luna had snapped. Almost feral. Her daughter would never step foot into those rooms. Not where the girls did their “online business.” Not where innocence evaporated.
Raina understood. Sort of.
Cleaning the mansion was exhausting, but oddly comforting. Every polished tile, every dusted corner gave her a sense of control—something she lacked in their shanty, where clutter and chaos piled up around her mother’s endless search for a missing piece of a broken porcelain vase. Their house wasn’t a home anymore. It was a hoarder’s maze of forgotten things and unanswered prayers.
Still, thanks to Cassie’s referrals, Raina earned a bit extra doing laundry for the girls. That was acceptable to Luna. As long as she stayed in the laundry room, she was safe. Out of sight. Out of temptation.
Even Mrs. Madame—the caretaker of the O’Hare estate—had taken a liking to Raina.
“You’re so pretty,” the woman once said, swirling wine in a crystal glass. “Ever thought of working as one of my girls?”
The moment she said it, Raina’s mouth filled with a coarse, salty taste—ugly and thick. She glanced at Luna, who looked like she was about to explode. To avoid catastrophe, Raina had grabbed her mother’s wrist and whispered, “Focus, Ma. Remember the vase. Remember Malacaz.”
The vase. The only thing Luna ever cared about anymore. One missing piece stood between them and escape. Escape from this house. From this life.
But now, with Luke standing just a few feet away, his eyes burning with a thousand unspoken words, Raina didn’t know what to think anymore.
“Cleaner, huh…” Luke muttered, more to himself than to her. “I remember Cassie started the same way.”
“Cassie’s twenty-one,” Raina snapped, stung by the implication.
“So that makes it okay?”
“She’s our friend, Luke. Don’t talk like that.”
Silence stretched between them. Luke’s expression softened, then collapsed.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “She’s tough. She can handle that world. But you? You’re not like her.”
Raina swallowed, and the taste changed again. Metallic. Like panic. But not hers—his.
“I won’t do anything like that,” she lied, trying to steady both their hearts.
Cassie’s voice echoed in her memory. “He likes you, Rain. He’s in love with you.”
Love? That concept was foreign to Raina. Abstract. Unnecessary. Her mother’s mental instability demanded all her attention. Falling in love was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Besides, Luke felt more like a brother—an extension of her childhood. The boy who used to chase frogs with her near the riverbank. How could she ever…
“Rain,” Luke whispered, “I just want you to know that—”
“You guys are here!” a voice interrupted.
Cassie.
Raina turned to see her striding toward them, radiant as ever, her presence instantly shifting the taste in Raina’s mouth—warm, sugary, safe.
“Cassie!” Raina smiled, relieved. She needed the interruption.
“I’ve got so much to tell you. Remember my favorite client? Kein? He’s visiting soon. I want you to meet him!”
Luke stepped back, the way boys do when girl talk starts. But Raina’s curiosity flared.
“Why is he visiting? Is he… taking you away from here?”
“Maybe,” Cassie grinned. “He’s interested in the vase your mom’s restoring. I told him everything. And guess what? He believes her.”
Raina blinked. “He believes in Malacaz?”
Cassie nodded, her smile unreadable. “He thinks the vase is more than just broken pottery. He thinks it’s a key.”
To what, Raina didn’t know. But suddenly, the taste in her mouth shifted again—this time to something new.
Something unknown. And maybe, just maybe, something real.
“What?!” Luke burst back into the conversation, his voice slicing through the air. “You told that stranger about our friend’s deepest secret?!”
Cassie flinched. “Y-yes… oops. I’m sorry, Rain. I didn’t mean to—it just sort of slipped out.” Her words tumbled out nervously, but her voice trembled with something more than guilt. Realization was dawning on her face, like someone waking from a dream and seeing the damage left behind.
Raina remained quiet for a beat, her tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth. The taste had shifted again—sweet, warm, apologetic. Cassie meant what she said. She wasn’t being careless on purpose. She was just trying to help.
“It’s okay, Luke,” Raina finally said, steadying her tone. “And Cass… just—please. I don’t want my mom turned into some side show. You know what I mean?”
Cassie’s face softened with shame. “She won’t. I promise. Kein isn’t like that. He’s… different. And maybe he can actually help you with your dream.”
“My dream?” Raina asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Manila,” Cassie said with a hopeful smile. “You told me once, remember? You wanted to leave, take your mom, start over…”
Luke’s head turned sharply. “Manila? What do you mean Manila?” The words came out almost like a cough—sharp and unexpected.
The bitter taste struck Raina like a punch. Luke’s emotions had shifted again—anger, confusion, betrayal—swirling inside her like poison in her mouth. She hated this part of her strange ability, this constant emotional interference. Tasting everyone’s feelings—sweet, sour, bitter, metallic—was like living inside someone else’s nervous system. It was exhausting. Some days, it made her feel like vomiting.
This gift—or curse—was hers alone. No one else knew. And she planned to keep it that way.
“Rain’s planning to move to Manila,” Cassie said quietly. “She wants to take her mom and get out of here.”
A sharp growl echoed nearby.
They all turned.
There, at the edge of the shadows, stood Luna. Her eyes were wild, locked on her daughter with a fire that could burn through skin. In her hands was the patched-up porcelain vase—still incomplete, still missing that one precious piece. Her knuckles were white around it, as if letting go might mean losing everything she had left.
The saliva in Raina’s mouth turned acidic.
Luna had been listening.
And she was furious.