“What song did he used to play?”
A shiver runs up my spine just thinking about those dark, horror-filled days. “I don’t want to talk about him. But I do want you to find him, and make him suffer the way he made Neve suffer.” Instantly I cheer up, happy at the thought of him going to prison, and knowing pedophiles are welcomed in a different kind of way there. “Hopefully, someone has some barbed wire ready for him.” I smile cheekily and clap my hands together. I look over to M’s parents. They’re staring at me. “Do I have something on my face?” I wipe at my nose.
“Not at all. You’re just so… different,” M’s mom says.
“I know. I’m the cool one. I’m the one who cheers everybody up.” I jump up, and sit on her lap. “I love your hair. You should wear it down. Maybe put some makeup on. Not too much. Just some lipstick. Oh my God! You’d rock knee-high boots. You have such nice legs.”
“I’m really not into boots,” she replies.
“But you’d rock them. High-heeled black boots.”
We have to talk, Kate. You can’t take over whenever you want.
I roll my eyes. “Fine, you can have your body back. Before I go, we all give you permission to talk with Amelia, and to go after that bastard. And while I’m here, get the death penalty for that prick, Preston.”
“We don’t have the death penalty in this state,” Eveline says.
“What a shame. Bullet, brain. Easy solution. For both of them.”
Kate!
The cloud lifts and I find myself sitting on Mom’s lap. I vaguely recall Kate saying something about boots to Mom.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize to everyone. I get up off Mom’s lap, and sit in my seat again. Rubbing my hand over my eyes, I try and drag myself out of the heavily clouded head space I’m in. It takes several moments of quiet before I start feeling like myself. I rub at the back of my neck, trying to calm my worry. What are they all thinking? Especially Eveline. I’m worried she thinks I’m crazy. I can’t bear to bring my gaze to hers. I shift in my chair, impatiently waiting for something to happen.
“Molly?” Eveline asks.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry.” I feel sweat beading on the back of my neck. Jesus, what does she think? “I, um, couldn’t help that.”
“You’re a remarkable woman, Molly,” Eveline says.
I lower my chin, struggling with Eveline’s obvious acceptance of what just happened. I wet my lips, taking extra care not to say or do anything else weird.
“Molly?” I slowly bring my eyes up to meet Eveline’s. “You are extraordinary.”
“I don’t feel like I am,” I reply in a slower tone. My mouth becomes parched, and I reach for the water.
“I’ll get it,” Dylan says as he stands and pours some water into a glass then hands it to me.
“Thank you.” I smile. There’s a part of me that really doesn’t like all this attention. I’ve never liked people staring at me, or me being in the center of anything. I’m fine with melting into the wall, and watching rather than being watched.
“Molly, perhaps Dylan can take you out for a coffee? I’d like to speak to your parents alone. Are you okay with that?”
“Is it about me?” I ask nervously.
“Some of it will be. But some will be about your sister.”
Standing, I lean into Dylan and wrap my arm around his waist. I feel like he’s my strength. I trust him, and know he’ll never hurt me. “What do you think?” I ask, unsure on what I should be saying.
“I think Eveline is right. You’re exceptional, but you need us. And for now, I think you should let your parents talk with Eveline while I buy you a coffee.”
“I suppose it’s not like they don’t know I’m crazy,” I say trying to lighten the mood.
“You’re not crazy, Molly. You’re vulnerable, and it’s our duty to protect you,” Dylan says. “Because we all love you.”
I look between my parents, Eveline, then Dylan. “Okay,” I say in a small voice, “Take me for a coffee.” I have unconditional trust in my parents, and I know, they’d never do or say anything to hurt me.
“How are you feeling, Molly?” Amelia asks.
Curling up on the sofa, I look out the window and see the trees moving with the wind. I hug my legs as I considering how I’m feeling. “I’m kind of relieved. Preston’s going to trial for what he did to Tina.”
“Kind of? I thought you’d be happier.”
“I am. I’m struggling with a few other things, that’s all.” I look down, away from Amelia. I can feel her eyes boring into me. She’s going to ask me what’s bothering me.
“What are you struggling with? Is it one of the alters?”
I move on the sofa, readjusting my position. I’m delaying telling Amelia what I’m thinking and feeling. My stomach pulsates, and my hands sweat. “Not really, but kind of.”
“Kind of, again, huh? Tell me, what are you thinking?”
“I’ve been thinking about Dylan.”
“Go ahead.” She extends her legs, and crosses them at the ankles.
“I’m conflicted,” is the only words I offer.
“Over what?”
Why does this feel like I’m struggling to find the right words? Actually, to find any words? My thoughts are torturous. I shouldn’t be thinking about this, I should be more focused on Preston’s trial.
“I’m going to make a speculation here, Molly. But I’m getting the feeling you’re burdened by whatever it is you want to talk to me about. You know, wanting to feel happy isn’t a bad thing. You’re probably questioning yourself, and beating yourself up, maybe even wanting to punish yourself for things that are out of your control.”
It’s like she can read my mind. I roll my eyes, frustrated with myself. “I want to get closer to Dylan, but I don’t know if I can. We tried once, and I freaked out.”
“Is Dylan putting pressure on you?”
“Oh my God, no. Not at all. He’s so understanding. But I feel guilty for a range of reasons.” I stand and pace before Amelia, darting a look over to her every few seconds. “I want to take it to the next level. But I feel like I shouldn’t. I feel like I should focus on them,” I tap my head, “and Tina’s trial. Like I should put them all before me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you taking care of you. The only tricky part will be talking to the others. First Dylan. You both have to be on the same page when it comes to intimacy. But I suspect you’ll need to talk to Neve, AJ, and Kate. I have a feeling Neve will struggle with this the most.”
“Why Neve?” I ask.
“Neve’s been conditioned to take over when an act like that occurs, something that will hurt you.”
“But this is different. It’s not forced like it used to be when I was little.”
“But remember, Neve is only a young child herself, and she doesn’t know the difference. All she knows, is when you were about to be hurt, it was her job to take you away from the horror, and for her to step in. You’re going to have to talk to Neve before you and Dylan make that connection.”