I headed over to the bed to study the older version of me more. “But. . .why wouldn’t you forgive them after all these years? I mean. . .we’re mad, but are we that mad?”
Any other logical words left me. Only questions tornadoed through my head. How long had I remained upset with Saint and Holly? Why would I so easily shut them away? Sure, I was terrified of facing my father, but that didn’t mean I should start hating them.
For some reason, I glanced down at the notes. There, Old Me jotted clear instructions on what to do with the line. Everything was super detailed.
And then Older Me stopped, put the pen down, closed the file, and set it on the bed. Slowly, she moved the blanket and got off the bed too. A determined look mingled with sorrow and filled her eyes. She rose on frail bony legs. Her silk gown fell to the floor and covered them.
She opened the dresser drawer in the nightstand next to the bed, pulled out three sheets of paper, and placed them on the bed next to the file of designs.
What’s going on?
One step at a time she walked away from the bed.
I looked at the paper and read it out loud. “I give this property to Park who has been a faithful assistant to me for so many years. The rest of my estate, stock, cars, and jet are to be divided among Holly and Nikolas Madison as well as Saint Ingram. God bless you all.”
Horror overtook me. “No.”
I snapped my attention back to her. “Wait. No! What are you doing? Please, don’t, Ivy. Please don’t do this.”
Old Me made it to glass doors and opened them.
“Oh no.” I shook my head. “That’s not the way to solve this. Are you kidding me? Just call them. Fix this! It’s that simple! Why are you being so hard-headed? They love you!”
Old Me stumbled onto the balcony.
“Wait!” I hurried forward and tried to grab her arms. I just needed to hold her to me and let her know that no matter what it would all be okay. But my hands went through her body, and I couldn’t stop anything. “Please, don’t do this. I love you! They love you!”
There, Old Me climbed her frail self onto the ledge of the balcony. Tears fell from her eyes. She whispered to the night sky. “I’m sorry.”
Then she dove out into the darkness.
“No!” I screamed. My body shook from the horror. My voice burned, but I couldn’t stop. “No!”
The balcony’s walls crumbled around us. The mansion screeched and cracked. Bits of black marble fell all over the place.
“No!”
The dark spirit appeared at my side. “Come.”
Terrified, I turned to him. “What? We have to save her. We—”
“Come.” He rose in the air.
Shocked, I lifted with him. “This isn’t my future. You’re a liar. You’re a bad spirit of some sort. This is not. . .no. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t! I know what Mom did to everyone when she left like that. No.”
My body floated with the dark Ghost over the ledge. I looked down. Old Me’s body lay misshapen and broken in the snow. They probably wouldn’t find her until the next morning. The place was so massive.
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not me. I rebuke that shit. You’re wrong.”
The figure flew close to me and spread his arms out. His sleeve lengthened again. Another opening appeared.
“What are you doing now?” I flapped my arms as if I could fly away from him. “I don’t like where you take me. Stay away!”
“Come.” He blurred to me and wrapped darkness around us.
“No!” I went blind again. Those same disheartening sensations overflowed in me, clogging my speech and eating me away. I reached my hands out and only grasped cold darkness.
When it stopped, all I could do was feel relief.
Panting, I opened my eyes and realized I was now in a small graveyard covered in snow. When I looked back, I spotted the same mansion from earlier, but now it was daylight. I figured it must’ve been Old Me’s private graveyard. There wasn’t much sun on this cold morning. Gray mist twisted into haunting shapes and then wisped around tombstones.
I rose from the ground and looked at the gray stone markers. One held my father’s name.
What? I buried him on my land? Why?
Right next to him was his wife and on the right, I spotted Timothy’s name. My heart ached.
I must’ve brought their bodies to my land and kept them here.
I studied the graves. The stonework had faded, telling me that Old Me had buried them years ago. Vines crawled over the side of each tombstone.
I scanned the tragic depressing space. “I want to leave.”
Behind me, the dark ghost gestured. “Come.”
“This is fucking sad.” Hot tears burned my eyes. I blinked them back. “I don’t like this lesson. I don’t want to be here.”
And then I spotted the worst possible scene I could have imagined. My knees threatened to buckle under me.
An older version of Saint stood in front of a tombstone with a little boy. A large bird perched on top of the tombstone and watched them with contempt. Saint had aged very well. He still had a huge frame and muscle. A few wrinkles decorated his cheeks, but not many. Gray touched his temples.
A little boy was on his right, holding his hand. He looked like Saint did when we were kids. The boy looked at him. “Grandpa, Mom said that you loved this woman.”
“I did.” Saint gazed at the tombstone. “She was an. . .amazing woman.”
The little boy looked at him. “Do you love Grandma too?”
Saint gave him a sad smile. “I do.”
“How is that possible? Mommy only loves Daddy.”
Saint sighed. “Ivan, love is a complicated concept—one I hope you end up better understanding than your old grandpa.”
The boy blinked and turned back to the tombstone. “Her name was Ivy.”
Saint nodded.
“Just like Mommy.”
“I always thought it was a beautiful name. Thankfully, your grandmother agreed, although it took some convincing.”
The little boy glanced over his shoulder. “Mommy said this is your house now?”
Saint didn’t turn around. “Not really, Ivan. We’re going to give it to Miss Ivy’s charity foundation. They will sell it and help mothers and children that need it more.”
“But I want to visit you at your new big castle.”
Saint chuckled and led them away. “Sorry, buddy. You’ll have to settle for the farmhouse. I thought you liked working in the garden with Grandma and helping me feed the chickens.”
“I do, but I like castles too, Grandpa.”
They walked off.
I stared at them.
The dark ghost appeared in front of me. “Look.”
I ignored him and gazed at Saint, wishing that I could go off with them. I wanted to see the farmhouse, the garden, and chickens. I wanted to know how Holly and Nikolas were doing too.
The ghost pointed to something behind me. “L-o-o-k.”
“I don’t want to look. I know what’s there. It’s my tombstone.”
The ghost floated closer to me.
“Okay. Okay.” I held my hands up and turned around.
There, my tombstone stood before me—cold and dark. Only my name was carved into it. No angels or flowers. No special quote or statement of love. Just my name on cold stone. Fresh flowers lay in front of it. Saint must’ve put them there. I doubted anyone else would’ve come to visit once he left. For some reason, that bothered me.