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“She’s good. She sends her love. She can’t wait to have you home where you belong.”
I feel her retract from me, but instead of letting her go, I take her hand in mine and rub my thumb over the back of it.
“I can only help if you talk to me, babe. I want to help.”
“I’m just not sure I’m ready to come home yet.”
I bite my lip. “I know. And I respect that decision. But when you are ready to come home, we’ll all be there for you. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
“Working mostly. I’ve been doing some decorating in the house as well because it needs some upgrading. What about you? What passes your time in here?”
“I like walking around the grounds. The gardens are beautiful. At night, I listen to music, write in a journal, and watch movies. Now I’ll be able to read the books you brought in for me.”
“I felt peaceful looking at the gardens from the window.”
Kally looks over at the window and walks over to it. She places her hands on the glass and looks out. I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. She doesn’t pull away; she melts into my embrace.
“That’s my room over there. The one with the orange rose bushes at the side of the window. I sit out there with my lunch if the weather’s nice.”
I look over to where Kally is pointing. It looks like the perfect spot for her. Bright and spacious. A safe haven.
“It suits you.”
She turns in my arms. “Would you like to go for a walk?”
“I’d love to. Show me the way.”
Kally links her fingers with mine, and I follow her out of the room and through a couple of corridors until we come to the front door. The receptionist buzzes us through. Before I know what we’re doing, we’re out the front door. Kally stands rooted to the spot. Her hand clasps around mine like an iron glove.
“This is the first time I’ve left the clinic. I like that I can do that when I want, but I’ll only ever do that with you because I know you’ll keep me safe.”
“Always. So, where do you want to walk to?”
Kally points to the side of the building along a path. “Trish said there’s a pond at the end of the path with swans and ducks. Will you walk with me?”
“Of course. Next time I come, I’ll bring some bread with me and we can feed the ducks. I’m not so keen on swans.” I laugh, remembering a time when we were about fourteen years old, when a swan chased us while we were visiting the zoo.
“When Trish told me about the swans, that was the first thing I thought about. You and I running away from the flapping swan. I thought it was going to eat us.” She giggles.
It’s good to hear Kally giggle. I never thought I’d hear that sweet sound again. With the birds chirping in the trees around us, and the sun in the sky, today is a good day. I’m content for the first time in two weeks. Just having Kally’s hand in mine gives me a little bit of hope that with time and perseverance, we’ll get through this dark time.
We approach the large lake, and right in the middle, there’s a swan sitting on her nest. As long as she stays out there, we’ll be fine.
“We don’t have far to run back if she turns into a psycho,” says Kally.
I’m glad she’s laughing again. We take a seat on the bench in front of the lake, and I wrap my arm around Kally’s shoulders. She nestles into my side and looks out into the wilderness.
Right at this moment, we’re filled with peace.
Chapter 24
Colton
“Why the fuck would you be visiting a mental health clinic, Clarky boy?” I sit in the shadows in my old, run-down rust bucket.
For two weeks, I’ve sat and watched everything going on. Who enters and leaves Clark’s house, where they go, and who they see. Today is the first time something has changed. I rub my hands together and sit back in my seat. I lean over and grab the whiskey bottle. I unscrew the top and take a swig of the amber liquid. The burn is welcome. Pain is for the weak, boy. My father’s words echo in my head like he’s sitting right beside me. He’s always there, whether I’m awake or asleep. His voice goes right through me. As a child, I idolized my father. I got to go to work with him instead of going to school, I shared his life, and I was given everything I ever wanted. By the time I was sixteen, I did all of my father’s dirty work. He trusted me, and it was becoming clear that my life was dictated by my father and his lifestyle. I was jealous of the way my younger brothers got to live. They stepped away from the Collinson name and they looked and sounded happy. Or they did until recently. Every little detail of my life was mapped out for me, and that was okay as a child. As an adult, I hated the dictatorship, but I was too far in to escape like my brothers did. I had witnessed and done too many things to walk away without a death sentence hanging over me. The only positive thing was that my father’s legacy would be given to me on his retirement or death, whichever came first.
