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IRINA
Ifeel like I’m comingout of my skin. Day after day passes with me stuck on the estate, unable to even hope to see Eagle. I’ve always been able to compartmentalize my worst emotions. That’s how I survived tragedy and living with Zaja.
Moving to McMurdo Valley ripped away my defenses. I can’t get a footing here. Fiona seems depressed, frequently talking about how I should travel after she’s dead. I promise I’ll protect her. My words are spoken with conviction. Yet, I feel this place squeezing me until I can barely breathe.
In Essex Point, I could shut Fiona and me up on the third floor of the massive Victorian and feel safe. Occasionally, over the dozen years, Zaja would climb the stairs, screaming about wrongs against her. I’d lock the doors and cuddle with Fiona. I never feared the madwoman had the power to bust inside and harm us.
We have more space here on the expansive estate. The house is beautiful and comfortable. However, I have no doubt Jimbo or Larry are capable of breaking inside no matter how many locked doors stand in their way.
I wake up every day, stressed over what madness we might face. Seeing Eagle every Friday recharged me. He’s beautiful and powerful in a way that made me believe in magic. McMurdo Valley no longer felt like a toxic place when such an amazing man called it home.
I miss him, every minute of every day.Eagle looked unbelievably handsome at the funeral in his simple suit. I could tell he wasn’t comfortable dressed up. I also sensed he wanted me to acknowledge him.
The entire day left me feeling under attack. How could Fiona survive this place? Todd Rogers insisted she attend the funeral. So heavily sedated, Fiona wasn’t even conscious most of the time. All for what? To put on a show?
More and more, I’m struck by a strangling panic. I can’t protect Fiona. If someone in her terrible family wants her dead, I’ll be helpless to stop them.
The fear is dragging me down. I can’t compartmentalize anything anymore. I need to see Eagle. If I have his arms around me, I can find clarity. At the very least, I can feel safe for a few hours.
Except I can’t sneak off to see him, and I’m afraid to leave Fiona alone.
Since the funeral, I’ve left the estate only once. Todd didn’t want me to go to the store, claiming the staff would pick up whatever I needed. I explained how I hoped to walk around the grocery store to get ideas for meals. He grudgingly allowed me to go, sending one of the newly hired armed guards to supervise.
Unlike Jimbo or Larry, this guy didn’t hover over me constantly. His focus was on threats, not what I was buying.
Back at the guesthouse, I take all three pregnancy tests as if one of them might disprove the other two.
I keep the news to myself, worried over how Fiona might react to more change. She’s been brokenhearted since Marky’s death. I’m unsure why since she didn’t like him. Tonight, she finally admits the reason.
“The world is a better place when my family dies,” she whimpers. “We’re bad people. We destroy lives. People are happy when we die.”
I think of how Zaja’s death received a big shrug from most people. She was hated by some, manipulated by others, and avoided by most. Even Fiona and I dodged her most days despite living in the same house.
“You aren’t like them,” I promise Fiona and use my shirt sleeve to dab the tears falling down her pale cheeks. “You’re a flower growing in a junkyard. The filth around you can’t steal your beauty.”
My words do nothing to fix her pouty expression. “I’m only harmless because my brain got broken. Otherwise, I’d be a monster whose death would be a reason to celebrate, just like poor dead Larry.”
“Marky’s the one who died.”
“Does it really matter?” she asks, squirming deeper under her plush red blanket until her face is nearly covered. “They’re both big, dumb bullies that no one likes.”
