Why does it feel like I really fucked up?
And why does the burn in my chest feel a thousand times worse than the bleach on my hands?
The steady patter of heavy rain fills my room. It’s rained for three days straight. Three days without a conversation. Three days where I’ve only ventured out of my room to steal food from Dax’s kitchen and do laundry. My birthday passes unnoticed, or I guess I should say my fake birthday. Either way, I spend the day alone. The loneliness hurts, but my lies hurt worse.
I stare at windows speckled with raindrops. They are backlit by the tree lights outside, which throw natural bokeh flares across the glass with each individual drop shining yellow-gold like stardust.
Despite being warm, the sound of the rain prickles my skin and raises the hair across my arms. I miss home. Or rather, I miss the kids. I miss them piling into my room when the thunder rumbles and the lightning bursts white across the sky. We’d read stories and snuggle or, if it was really bad, we’d prop up my blanket and light a torch beneath so they could camp out in safety.
Is it raining where they are?
Have they run to Mum and Carlo?
I always thought it was my job to comfort them, but the truthis I need them too.
I starfish across the duvet. My towelling pyjamas crackle as the static builds, so I stop.
The silence in the apartment is all-consuming. I’m either sinking in the vastness of the nothing or I’m flinching over every creak or rumble in the walls.
With no one else home, I have unlimited freedom to explore and yet I have no inclination to do anything but lounge here. I tried sketching but after covering two pages in messy, nonsensical ink scratches, I gave up.
A light arcs across the window, tyres roll over gravel and through rain. Probably Dax leaving to wherever he’s been spending his nights. He’s not even entered the apartment once since our meeting. He’s avoiding me, and it’s my fault.
God, I’m bored.
No. Not bored. Lonely.
My phone lights up followed by two consecutive beeps. I pick it up and see a name I’ve both been looking forward to and dreading in equal measure.
Aiden.
Are they safe? Is he?
I hold my breath as I read and then choke it all out in a confused huff.
Are you decent?
“What the hell does that mean? Is it some kind of code?”
“No, I’m just wondering if I can come in or if I should wait for you to get dressed?” His laughter-filled reply comes through my door. It takes a second for my brain to click.
Aiden’s here! I’m on my feet and throwing the door wide before he finishes laughing.
“What are you doing here? Is everything alright? Are they safe? Are you okay? Why didn’t you call? Dax didn’t say you werecoming back.”
“That’s a lot of questions, pretty girl. Can I come in, or do you want me to wait downstairs for you?”
“No…Come in. There are cameras all over the place downstairs. We’ll talk easier here.”
His laughter doesn’t die, it fills his eyes and twitches at his lips as he watches me. I invite him inside with a stupid wave of my hand and Aiden saunters in heading straight for one of the armchairs in front of the window.
“Okay let’s see how many of those questions I caught.Are they safe?Yes. They were moved through two checkpoints and onto their new home. They have new identities and everything they need to get settled, including school placements for the twins, nursery placement for Casey, a job for Mara and Carlo too. They’re safe and hopefully, soon, they’ll be happy.
“Why didn’t I call?I didn’t call because it’s not safe for me to contact you while I’m with your family. We leave no clues,” he explains. I nod, understanding fully that if I’m being watched here, then any call I make can easily be pinpointed from my phone. It should be safe, but why take the risk?
“Am I okay?I’m fine aside from missing a certain little spitfire.” He grins. I blush. “Dax didn’t say, because I told him not to. I wanted to surprise you.
“What am I doing here?Where else would I go? And what was the last one…Is everything alright?Why don’t you tell me?” He leans forward in his chair, legs slightly apart and his elbows resting on his knees. His right hand cups the left and his thumbs cross as he stares me down.
