Page 35 of In All My Dreams

I place my hand gently against her cheek, wiping away the few tears that have managed to escape. “Your mom loved you,Georgia. So much. We may never know why she did what she did, but I do know that she loved you.”

She leans into me, and I wrap my arms around her as she cries into my chest, stroking her back in gentle motions, wishing more than anything that I had the answers to all the questions that haunt her.

“My dad doesn’t think she did it,” Georgia mumbles into my chest.

“What do you mean?”

She pulls out of my arms, bringing both her hands to her face and angrily wiping away her tears. “He doesn’t think she tried to kill me.”

I open my mouth in surprise, then close it again. It would change everything for Georgia, and Lincoln, if there was some type of proof that Caroline wasn’t responsible for her own demise and destruction of her own family.

“Who would have done it then?” I ask her.

She lets out a defeated laugh. “I have no fucking idea. Up until today, I never gave it much thought. Her death was a cut-and-dry suicide case. Poisoned by her own hand, with the cup that should have been mine. I never gave her the benefit of the doubt. I just believed what everyone told me. Until today, I never thought twice about it being a murder.”

“Murder?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, if someone else tried to poison me, it’d be a murder, right? Or someone wanted my mother dead. Either way, murder. Or she was stuck in the throes of depression and didn’t realize what she was doing? I don’t know, Ian. My stomach is twisted up in knots, and I don’t know what to believe or who to trust anymore. Now Auden is talking about ghosts and bad things. I shouldn’t have come back.”

I look up into the swaying fronds of the willow tree. Before we came out here, I had every intention of telling Georgia how I felt about her, about us, about Auden.

But she has so much on her plate already. I can’t add my shit to that.

I sigh, grabbing my cup of wine and finishing it in three gulps before picking the diary back up. “Let’s keep reading then and see if this diary has any answers. Shall we?”

Georgia nods as she continues to wipe at her tears. I open my arm for her, and she leans on me with no hesitation. Just like when we were kids, huddled together. Too young to understand why we lost Irene and Caroline the tragic and horrific way we did.

Dear Georgie girl,

Last night you had one of your sleepwalking spells again. Lydia woke me up in the dead of night screaming like a banshee from across the way. When your father and I looked out the window, you were standing at the end of the dock wearing your baby-blue nightgown and holding your stuffed bear, staring into the lake. Or at least, I assumed you were. The shadows of the night made it hard to see. We both went running down the stairs, racing to get to you before you took that last step into the dark waters below. By the time we made it to you, Lydia was already there, tugging you away from the ledge, but you wouldn’t budge. It was like you were superglued to the spot. A forklift wouldn’t have been able to move you. I remember your father reminding us not to touch you. You aren’t supposed to touch a person who is stuck in a dream like you were. But how could I not reach for you? Protect you? You’re my entireuniverse. Of course I had to get you away from the gaping monster that the lake looked like. But even I couldn’t coax you into moving. You looked right through me. It wasn’t until Ian came running out of his house, screaming that he could help you. Your father and I stood back next to Lydia and watched Ian whisper something into your ear, and like magic, you returned to us again. Your eyes landed on mine, huge and afraid, and you ran right into the comfort of my arms, sobbing. Five years old and you experienced so much fear in your tiny body. If I could hold you close to me forever and keep you safe from the monsters and dangers of the world, I would, my sweet girl. I would hold you and never let you go. Ian held one of your hands all the way back to the house while I clung tightly to the other. Your protectors, keeping you safe from the monsters of the world. If only I knew how to keep you safe from your own self and the scary things that haunt you in your dreams, driving you to put yourself in dangerous and terrifying predicaments. Until I learn, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe from your nightmares. I love you, my Georgie girl. To the moon and back.

Love always,

Mom

I feel Georgia stiffen beside me. Her head lies on my shoulder as I close the diary and place it on the quilt beside me.

“What’s wrong, G?” I ask, tugging on her chin to get a good look at her in the muted light that surrounds us. She has tears in her eyes but a smile on her lips.

“Nothing,” she says, and I quirk an eyebrow at her. She sighs, pulling herself out of the comfort of my arms. “It’s just,even as kids you were always saving me from myself. I don’t remember having those sleepwalking spells, but my father said something about them recently, and obviously, they happened more frequently than I thought. I just don’t remember them. I only remember the nightmares I got after my mother died,” she says with another shrug. “And you were always there to save me from those, too. You’re always saving me from the things that go bump in the night, Ian.” She smiles a shy smile at me, her gray-blue eyes shining brightly as we gaze at each other in the small space of the world we’ve carved out for ourselves.

I run my hands through my hair, gnawing on my lip the way I do when I’m nervous and deep in thought. My body is begging me to kiss her again, to taste her lips and feel every inch of her. My brain, though, my brain can’t quite catch up with that. Especially when I’m stuck with this massive lie of omission weighing heavily on my chest.

“You say you don’t remember the sleepwalking and nightmares?” I ask, avoiding eye contact with her as I drum my fingers across the mug as I lift it to my lips. “At all?”

Georgia shakes her head. “I don’t. I only remember her ghost. That’s an image I don’t think I’ll ever be able to burn out of my head.”

“Do you see her now? Now that you’re back at the manor, I mean? Have you seen her?”

The look of fear in her eyes permeates my soul as she nods.

Yes.

Georgia lifts her drink to her lips, letting the rim of the mug rest against her bottom lip as she stares at the fronds surrounding us. “I’ve seen her every day since I’ve been back. Several times. I think I’m losing my mind,” she admits softly before finally draining her cup.

It’s my fault. She only comes back to haunt you when I’m around.

But I can’t admit that. The cowardly person I am would rather play her knight in shining armor than be the one that causes her all this misery.

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