Page 127 of Deceived Wrath

Back when Carly was alive, I would spend nearly every weekend looking after Amber and Skye while she caught up on her collegework. We never did anything fancy, normally just a walk down to the local playground, but it was enough to put a smile on all our faces. It made me hate coming home to an empty apartment after spending hours listening to the sounds of their laughter.

God, I would do anything to be able to relive those memories again.

Skye has barely just turned four, and in a few years, it’s likely she won’t even remember me, let alone her mother. And that hits me like a punch to the gut.

Any minute, Amber is going to go into her surgery, and the fact that I’m not there… I can barely stand to even picture her hooked up to machines with her tiny chest open on an operating table. At this moment, I have never hated her father more for making me break my promise to my sister.

I said that I would always be there for the girls, no matter what, and I’ve failed.

“Fiona?”

“Huh?”

I blink to find Cormac standing in front of me. I’ve been too consumed in my thoughts that I haven’t even heard him come down the stairs.

Cormac is frowning. “You okay?”

I clear my throat. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

From the look on Cormac’s face, I know he can see right through my lie, but I quickly climb down from my stool and start busying myself with cleaning my dishes.

If he asks me what’s wrong, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep the floodgates from opening, and the last thing he needs before a long day of meetings is to deal with me ugly crying.

“Daddy, do I have to eat my blueberries?” Scout asks.

“Did Fiona tell you to?”

“Yeah…”

“Then yes, you do. The quicker you finish your breakfast, the quicker you can have your tablet.”

“I love blueberries!” Scout suddenly exclaims.

Cormac appears beside me, but he doesn’t say anything. Somehow, knowing that he’s offering me the space to talk if I want to only makes my eyes well with tears even more.

“I have to head to the office, so be good for Fiona, okay, bud?”

“I’m always good.”

“It’s true. He is.” I glance over my shoulder and catch Cormac’s eye. “It’s a shame it’s not genetic.” It’s a lousy attempt to try and lighten the mood, and I know Cormac doesn’t buy it.

His expression remains stone-faced as he looks at me. It’s so intense that my cheeks instantly heat.

“Do you want me to pick up something for dinner?”

This cannot become our normal, the three of us sitting around the table, sharing a meal. It can’t, not when I have Lorcan’s voice in the back of my mind.

At some point, I’m going to crack.

I just have to hope that whatever Lorcan wants me to find out, I can do it soon, before the damage becomes irreversible.

“That’s okay, I’m planning on making chicken pot pie.”

Scout perks up. “Really? That’s my favorite!”

Cormac narrows his eyes. “I thought my spaghetti and meatballs were your favorite?”

“It is.”