Page 197 of Gift from the Wing

Not a booming thunderstorm that floods the land, but a steady, gentle rainfall on an early spring day. Where the weather may or may not reach seventy, and it’s best you grab a coat to keep you comfortable just in case.

The peaceful picture I’m falling into has me trapped. I can’t open my eyes to break away from the serenity and my mind refuses to loosen its hold.

It tightens its grip on my entire body.

All my thoughts, feelings, emotions flee me and a mind that’s not my own takes control.

“Willow, what in the realm are you doing out here with no coat on?” I fuss as soon as my eyes land on the small shivering form under the tree.

This blasted realm’s winter lasts far longer than Elementra’s and although it’s early spring, add in this rain and wind, it’s freezing. To me.

Tear-drenched eyes cast up to me and the ring of violet in the haunted silver tugs at my heart painfully.

He’s hurt my baby girl again.

Sinking to the ground with her, her cold, wet body shakes violently against my chest, and I command an air bubble to surround us. I pull the blanket that I store in the trunk of the tree out and wrap it around her, swearing to myself as soon as she emerges, I’ll show her how to do this.

“What happened, my sweet girl?”

“I skipped school and got caught.” She hiccups and I hold in my shocked flinch.

Skipped school? She’s never done such a thing.

“Why would you do that? You know you can’t do things like that or you’ll get in trouble,” I say gently, not wanting to upset her even more, but also, she needs to know, she can’t do things like this.

“It’s mommy and me day again.”

Ah.

This would’ve been the third year she’s been in school and has had to endure being the only child who doesn’t have a mother show up. When she was six, it was confusing but exciting. A couple moms included her in the activities, and she had a good time.

But last year, her questions became more consistent, and she wanted to experience it fully. I explained to her, much more gently than her fuck of a father did, that it just wasn’t going to happen. She tried to put on a brave face, said it was okay and she hoped that the moms would play with her as well, but that teacher ended up taking her to a room alone to watch a movie.

She cried for days afterward. She realized she was being isolated, and she felt it in the depths of her soul.

This year, though, hell, I don’t know. I guess something about eight just makes children stronger.

Her brother was the same.

“I’m so very sorry, Willow. If your mom could be here, she would.”

“Obviously not.” She sniffles.

A lump forms in my throat at the heartache in her tone. There’s so much I wish I could say, so much I wish I could do. There’s only one thing in this moment that I believe would help, but I just don’t know if she’s ready.

Looking down at the distant, sad look on her face, I know I’m wrong. She’s ready. It is me who isn’t. My sweet girl has aged a lifetime in the past two years.

Her age may only be eight, but her mind is much older, unfortunately.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” I ask.

“No.”

I snort at the sharp rejection. “This isn’t your ordinary story or a movie you’ve ever seen before, though.”

Got her.

That little head pops off my chest and she narrows those eyes on me, searching for the trap. Curious as ever even in the face of sadness. I’ll see to it she never loses that wonder.

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