Page 138 of Lotus

That person is Clementine, who arrives an hour later, and I realize it’s the first time since I’ve returned that we are all in the same room together at once. It’s a fitting moment for our childhood reunion, despite the grave circumstances that still hover over us like a gray cloud.

We sit around the living room, Gabe’s back to the front of the sofa, Clementine seated upon it with her knees drawn up, and Sydney resting between my legs in the middle of the area rug. We order pizza as our conversation turns heavy.

Clementine releases a jagged sigh, twisting her sock around her ankle to distract herself from the pain. “I feel responsible for everything,” she mutters at one point, setting aside the pizza she didn’t even touch. “I knew he was a sick freak, but I had no idea he was capable of…”

We all avert our eyes, and my arms give Sydney a tender hug.

“He was my fuckin’father,” Gabe laments, scrubbing both palms over his face. “I still haven’t wrapped my mind around any of this.”

“It’s no one’s fault buthis,” Sydney says, pressing her back to me and cinching my hand in hers.

Clementine brushes back a tear. “Deep down I know that, but it doesn’t take away the guilt. I can’t explain the hold he had on me, or the sickening grip of my secret. I felt so much shame, so much humiliation and self-loathing.” Her breaths are ragged, her words barbed, puncturing us all with their gravity. “The more time that went by, the worse I felt. The harder it got. Travis always told me that no one would ever believe me, and I believedhim.”

Sydney gives my hand a quick squeeze before rising to her feet and running to the sofa, wrapping her arms around her sister. “Sis, I love you so much,” she weeps, head dropping to Clementine’s shoulder. “Why did you tell me it was Bradford?”

Clementine shifts, glancing my way, irises shimmering with apology. “It was easier to blame it on a dead man,” she confesses, a haunting whisper. “I guess I was still trying to protect our secret…mysecret. I can’t explain it, Syd, but those feelings of shame are so powerful. Even talking about it right now feels like I’m betraying some twisted, deep-seated part of me.”

“Do you want to talk in private?” Sydney sniffs.

She shakes her head after a thoughtful moment. “No. Everyone in this room has paid a dark price for my years of silence. You all deserve to know why.”

Leaning back on my hands, I try to put myself in Clementine’s shoes. She feels accountable. She’s carried a sense of responsibility for what happened to her for many long years, and now more grave repercussions have been added to that weight. My abduction, Sydney’s attack, the fire, the scars, both emotional and physical. I can only imagine the demons that are hounding her, trying to drag her down and drown her.

I clear my throat through a swallow. “You are not to blame,” I tell her quietly, garnering looks from all three. “Travis’ power ends here, right now, in this room.”

Six eyes stare back at me, soaking up my words, and I think for a brief moment we are all taken back in time to simpler days, innocent days, days of sunshine and popsicles and endless summer nights. Before Travis. Before my disappearance. Before a man dug his heinous claws into one little girl and molded a hundred different futures.

Clementine, Sydney, Gabe, myself.

My mother.

Bradford.

There’s no telling how many lives were altered, tainted, snuffed out. His talons ran deep, but we sever them now.

We cannot change the past, but we can certainly shape our future, and Travis will have no part of it. We’ll rise from the ashes with smoke in our lungs and scars on our skin, but we will persevere. We willthrive.

Those six eyes soften, as if we have all broken through an invisible barrier together—a force unseen yet felt with every tarnished piece of our souls.

We wield our swords together, finding true strength in one another.

We will fight.

We will live.

After hours of deep discussion and even some laughs, Clementine departs and Gabe settles into his room for the evening, while Sydney and I retreat into the solitude of our own bedroom. We let Athena out of her cage when the door is properly secured, and we laugh and engage with the playful critter as she explores her surroundings. We feed her the nuts and fresh fruit we carried in, watching as she holds a strawberry between her little hands and nibbles away. I smile, amazed by her.

A short while later, Sydney climbs onto the bed and beckons me to follow. “Want to watch a movie?” she suggests, bouncing lightly on the mattress.

I brought a television into the room for entertainment… that is, when we aren’t participating in other forms ofentertainment, which is decidedly often.

Joining her on the bed and nuzzling in close, I nod. “It’s been a trying day. A movie sounds wonderful.”

We get comfortable and Sydney turns on a film about a high school reunion with two blonde women who act strangely and get themselves into absurd situations. The picture pulls an abundance of giggles from Sydney’s lips, which, in turn, makes it my new favorite movie.

Deciding to multitask as we sit shoulder to shoulder against the headboard, I lean over to my nightstand and retrieve my sketchpad from the drawer. I’ve been detailing a new scene for my comic strip. Armed with a handful of markers, I add pops of color to the fireworks lighting up the night sky within the picture.

Sydney peers over my left shoulder, curious. “Is that our hill?”