Page 26 of Cedarwood Cabin

I pull back, shove him away, and break the kiss. I look up at him, angry.

“No, Marty!” I cry out.

“I promised your father I would take care of you if anything happened to him.”

His words fill me with rage and I abruptly stand up from the bed. I glare at him as I clench my fists. “Take care of me? Take care of me?!” I repeat. “What, by wanting to fuck me because I look like my mother?”

Marty gets up from the bed and places his hands on my shoulder. My body jerks at his touch.

“Flora, you are vulnerable at the moment.”

“Exactly! My father just died and you’re trying to fuck me!” I hiss.

“Just let me take care of you,” he pleads, his hand tightening on my shoulders.

He just wants to fuck me.

I shove his hands off me, taking him by surprise. “Fuck off! Just leave!” I say through gritted teeth.

Marty's jaw clenches. I am scared, but I refuse to show him. “Go!” I say in a firm voice, pointing toward the door.

His eyes darken and he walks away as I follow closely behind. I watch him descend the stairs and hear him grunting with each step. He walks outside into the rain and I follow him outside.

I am soaked as I watch him enter his car. He punches his passenger seat hard and drives off.

My legs tremble as I stand there, the rain mingling with my tears. I just want to collapse, but a white card catches my eye, lying half-buried in the mud. I walk over and pick it up. The card is soaked, the paper fragile and starting to disintegrate. I carry it carefully as I hurry back inside.

I close the door and stand in the hallway, dripping water onto the floor. I look down at the card as my hands shake. Slowly, I peel it open, the wet paper tearing slightly at the edges. The ink has bled, but I can still make out the words:

Sorry to hear about your father. Don't hesitate to reach out. We live at Cedarwood Cabin.

Dax & Lyka

The two brothers who I couldn't stop thinking about at one point. Now, it feels like a distant memory. I can’t summon any emotion to connect with the card. The house's silence presses in around me. The only sound I can hear is the rain.

SIX

FLORA

Two months have gone by since my father’s funeral and I’ve hardly left the house.

Nancy has been a saint and has been checking on me regularly. My aunt finally stopped begging me to move back to London.

Could I start fresh in London or should I stay here? I don’t even know anymore.

I stare at the plate of toast in front of me that’s gone cold. I’ve hardly eaten anything since my father's passing. I look at the sleeping pills on the table. The doctor prescribed them to me, but I haven't touched them. The house smells of stale coffee and untouched meals.

A darkness has taken over me. I feel so empty, like I’m being sucked into a black hole.

I wrap my arms around myself and cry, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

Why me? Why? Both my parents were taken from me…

I open my eyes and look at the sleeping pills again.

“I could escape all this,” I mumble to myself. I can't bring myself to take them. Not yet.

But I am so lost in grief, I just want this black hole to release me.

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