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“He cares about you more than anything in the world, Gwen. He will definitely forgive you.”
She releases a shaky breath, then whispers, “Thank you for saying that and…and I’m still sorry about what happened to you. Do you know who did it?”
Your grandfather, who will be a threat to your life if I don’t do something about it.
However, I settle with a “No.”
“I’m sure the police will find them,” she says with pure determination, not trying to wipe her tears.
She’s the type who wears her emotions like a badge. Definitely unlike me and her father.
“I brought you something.” Gwen digs into the pocket of her sweater and produces a small keychain in the shape of a scale. “It’s nothing much. I just noticed you don’t have one and stumbled upon this and thought it looked cool and would suit you…and, yeah, I got it.”
My chest nearly bursts from the emotions coursing through it. I don’t think I was built to handle so many feelings at the same time.
When I don’t reach for the keychain, Gwen pales. “It’s fine if you don’t like it, I can—”
“No, I do.” I grab at it with both hands. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
She smiles, childlike, and finally wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “You’re…welcome.”
“I’m all tears.” Caroline appears from behind the corner, dabbing at her eyes, probably having listened to the whole exchange, then smiles at Gwen. “I’m Auntie Caroline and I’ve known your mother since before we both got our periods.”
Gwen’s mismatched eyes glint. “Really?”
“Totally.” Caroline grins. “Wanna have a cup of tea with me, eat some cake, and let me tell you stories about a younger, less stony version of her?”
“Callie, stop it,” I hiss, my neck heating.
“What? She wouldn’t mind. Right, Gwen?”
My daughter doesn’t look at me, but her face turns a deep shade of red as she murmurs, “I would love tea. Do you have vanilla-flavored cake?”
“Of course! I have all sorts of cake.” Caroline says, all too joyful, and drags Gwen with her to the living room.
I follow them, feeling lightheaded and partially not believing what’s happening.
Caroline tells Gwen one embarrassing story from our youth after the other, interrupted by my protests and my kicking her whenever I get the chance.
My daughter, however, doesn’t seem the least bit bored or embarrassed. She listens carefully, laughs, and even asks questions, fully invested in a part of me I have long since forgotten.
A part of me who wrote in journals, gazed at the stars, and made stupid wishes that would never come true.
A part of me who was so naïve that I had to murder it in order to survive.
By the time Gwen leaves, she has a smile on her face, has exchanged numbers with Caroline, and wishes me well.
I feel so high on cloud nine that even Caroline’s hyper energy doesn’t bother me anymore.
However, later as I lie in bed, a stupid nagging remains at the back of my mind. In fact, it’s been there since Gwen was here.
He was so mad.
Her words play in my head on a loop. I’ve seen Kingsley on the scale of anger a few times, and it was always bad.
The type of bad people stay away from.
And while I was one of those people in the past, it sits wrong with me now.
