“You still think about him,” states Mom.
Love is a bitch that way. It stays with you forever, even when you’re not seeing the person.
I kiss Hope on the cheek, reminding myself why I’m doing this. Everything I do is for us, to keep us safe.
My heart may be torn to shreds now, but seeing Hope on the edge of that building would feel like having a blender in my heart, turning everything to mush.
Knowing that makes the ache much easier to manage.
“I know you feel like you’re protecting your daughter by keeping her away, but what if you’re denying her of seeing a father who might actually really love her?”
I stare up at my mom. “The issue isn’t with Valerian loving his daughter.”
“Right,” she says. “It’s the unpredictability of what’s waiting around the corner. It could be good. Could be bad.”
“And I’m not willing to take that gamble.”
“Yeah,” says my mom softly, “it’s your call to make.”
I nod. “I’m gonna put Hope in her cot.”
I wander into the next room. We’re still renovating Hope’s room, working on the last few finishing touches
Lila, Mom, and I all live under one roof in Orange Country. Five hundred meters away from the beach, I’d honestly have it no other way.
I lay Hope in her cot, kissing her goodnight, and perch on the stool in the corner, keeping a close eye on her. Darkness fills the room, giving me permission to feel the things I always shut out when the sun’s up.
I haven’t seen Igor. Orange County isn’t far from Malibu, where his apartment is. If he still has that.
My stomach churns when I think about that night. He killed Siguard, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was on good terms with his father.
If pissing off Igor was a challenge, Valerian would be first place.
Valerian had quite a few things to answer for.
And Igor basically said before sinking his knife into Siguard, that he wanted to kill his father.
The walls of this room close in, my thoughts spiraling. He’s been quiet for almost an entire year, his real estate posting things; his face never in any of the content.
Did Igor stay true to his word?
I rush out of Hope’s room, constructing a plan of action. I have to drive to Beverly Hills, and Mom will stay here and look after Hope.
I storm into the kitchen and yank open the fridge, lining up all the milk Hope should need tonight. I’ll be gone most of the night, considering how much of a fucking trek Beverly Hills is from here.
“Where... are you going?”
“I’m used to not getting any sleep,” I say, arranging bottles, getting everything prepared for the night. “One of these should be enough for her every time she wakes up.”
“Joy,” snaps my mother, silencing the other thoughts rushing through my head.
I turn around and immediately sense that something is off.
Mom’s face is drained of color, gray in tone.
“He’s gone, Joy.”
“W-what…?” I feel my blood turn cold. “Gone where?”