Page 5 of In All My Dreams

The same way I love Auden.

I let the stress I’ve been carrying on my shoulders slowly seep out as I grip the steering wheel tighter. I put the car back in drive and pull back onto the path that leads home.

I’ll keep Auden close to me this entire week. Where I go, she goes. That way nobody will corner her and ask questions she can’t answer. I look back and watch as her lips part slightly while she sleeps, much like the way they did after a long nursing session in the middle of those endless nights with her as a newborn.

She’smine.

I won’t give anyone a reason to lay claim to her. They don’t get to take her from me the way Crane Manor has taken everyone I loved. They don’t get to know the amazing little person she is. Ian most definitely doesn’t need to know a single thing about her other than she’s mine.

I’ll keep her safe . . . protected.

I’ll say my final goodbyes to my father and then leave as swiftly as I did the last time.

This time, I’ll stay gone forever.

3

Georgia

Now

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,” I tell Auden as I brush her dark hair away from her face. “We’re here.”

It takes a moment for her to come to. She stretches and yawns loudly before she opens those beautiful eyes of hers and stares right into my own. “Mama, did you say we are here?”

“Yes, sweet girl. We’re here. This is where I grew up,” I answer as I help her out of the car.

I turn with her, and we both stare up at Crane Manor.Home.

It’s a large plantation-style home. I’m not sure why my grandfather decided to call it a manor house. I don’t think it’s large enough to be considered into that category of real estate, but what do I know. Kids I went to school with, teachers, small shop owners in the town—to them and everyone else, it’s always been the manor house.

I suppose Crane Plantation doesn’t quite roll off the tongue the way Crane Manor does.

White wooden panels make up the entirety of the front, with long brown pillars to support the balcony on the second story. When I was younger, the shutters were painted bright yellow, one of my mother’s ideas. Now, they’re painted black to match the roof tiles.

Seems fitting that the bright and happy colors are now completely erased—almost like my mother’s death leeched all the joy out of this house, not just my heart.

The front looks mostly the same; new patio furniture and plants adorn the wraparound porch. The main entrance door is still a deep burgundy red; that much hasn’t changed.

“Wow, this place is a mansion!” Auden exclaims in awe. “I can’t believe this used to be your house. I bet you got lost all the time trying to find the cookies at night!” She giggles and grabs my hand with her own, giving it a tight squeeze and tugging on it excitedly. “Can we go inside?”

“We sure can. Just let me get Horton out of the car first, okay?” I release her hand and watch as she runs toward the front stepsof the house, my heart running right alongside her. Movement in one of the windows from the second story catches my eye.

My breath seizes in my throat when I seeher.

No, no, no.

White nightgown still covered in dirt. Her face still hauntingly beautiful, even with the blood dripping out of her nose. She’s pointing down at my daughter, her eyes wide with fright as she releases a silent scream.

I look toward Auden and notice the steps are wet, probably from Mrs. Foster watering the front garden.

“Wait, Auden! Be careful! The steps are—” I watch in mute horror as she slips on the first step and slams her forehead onto one higher up.

“Auden!” I scream hoarsely, running as fast as I can toward her.

She’s not moving.

The deep red door is thrown open as I’m mere feet away from her. “Don’t touch her! Don’t touch her! Georgia,don’t touch her!”

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