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What was that look about?
Whatever it is, Arabella has a smug look on her face as she turns to me. My eyes are instantly drawn to her T-shirt.
“Are you?” I nod at the words on her top—Queen Off Duty.
“I’m not a queen,” she laughs.
“What, then? Matriarch in the making? The godmother?”
A chortle pushes out of her, and without answering, she takes another look around before sitting on the steps.
“It’s not really what I expected.” Arabella takes a deep breath. “I thought something underground and bit musty was more unsuspecting.”
“Clearly not, if that’s what you expected.”
Another laugh trills from her. I think she’s forgetting that I already know her. That we’re not total strangers and there’s nothing about her that scares me. Not even the fact that she could sell us out. Arabella is kind.
“I’m here as a sister and friend and…” Her eyes flit down to my belly, and sadness flits through her beautiful face. Her dark eyes blink away their momentary haze as she clears her throat. “I want to help you.”
It’s a nice thought, but we both know she can’t do shit. In the grand scheme of things, she’s as powerless as I am. We’re all birds running from the storm.
“You can keep running, or you can let me help you. Whatever you choose to do, think of your child.” A forlorn smile curves her lips softly. “You look well. Better than you looked up North.”
“I’m not puking every two seconds, so…”
Arabella fiddles with the ring on her right hand, twisting and turning it as shadows fill her face. All of a sudden, she looks so young and vulnerable that it’s impossible for me to keep my guard up when she’s so very clearly dropping hers.
“I never had it as bad as you, but it was enough that these long drives didn’t agree with me and meat was a no-no. I suppose I was lucky.”
The guilt I felt earlier surrounds me. I can’t even pity her with it because if I were her, it would be the most useless thing anyone could do. Pity me for something as heinous as the death of my child. If anything, I respect her ability to look at me and not fall apart.
“Do you have a plan beyond this?” she asks. When I don’t answer, she continues. “Here’s the thing. You and that baby are going to need medical care. You don’t know how it’s going to happen, and you need to be prepared for any eventuality. Hiding away isn’t something you can afford to do right now.”
“It’s keeping us all alive, isn’t it?”
“Fleur.” She pauses before she sighs. “You’re smarter than that.”
“If this is how you’re trying to help, it’s shit and useless.”
She stands and moves to stand in front of me. She’s taller than me, maybe five or six inches. Enough that I have to look up at her.
Her eyes go to the bag on the table beside me, and without a single word, she reaches for the little sunflower bow headband. Threading it over the back of her hand, she strokes it.
“Another girl.” I swear her chin wobbles for a second. A wave of trepidation and sorrow rushes through me. “We’ll outnumber them soon,” she chuckles hoarsely.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? Contrary to what you and my brother believe, we’re happy for you. Shocked and pissed that you went behind our backs.”
“We didn’t go behind your backs.”
“Secrets breed distrust, Fleur. Trust me.” Opening my hand, she places the headband in it.
“It seemed wrong after what happened, and it’s not like Casper and I are together… We’re…we’re just…”
“No one will touch your baby. We won’t let anyone hurt her. I promise.” Arabella comes closer, rubbing my arm like there’s any comfort to be found in her actions or in her words.
But I don’t miss that her promise, although spoken to me, is to my child. Her niece.
