Page 66 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

“When Mother invites over her drunken visitors, barricade your bedroom door,” said Fia, brushing a tear from her cheek.

Maddy’s chest heaved with short, panicked breaths. “I can do it. What about the money?”

“I’ll put your name on the checking, savings, and other financial accounts. My name’s still there, too. I’ll continue to manage some accounts and answer all your questions. We also hired advisors. Stock the fridge and have the housekeeper fix a bunch of dinners each week. We’ll raise her pay. There are plenty of bucks. Enough for college later. Mama comes from a long line of money.”

Madeline sucked back the tears. If she lost it now, she’d never stop.

Fia hugged her again. Tighter. “You’re never alone, Mads. We are only a phone call away. I’m heading for LA to start a singing career. If you need me, I’ll be here on the next plane out.”

Darya gave her the same speech.

And they were. When Madeline called either sister with a problem or just needed to see them, they came. Each night they talked on the phone. And they were right. She knew the routine.

Since the sisters had kept in touch regularly, they must be worried about her. But how could she reach them from here? And how would that call go? “Hey, Fia, I’m in another dimension.” “Really, Madeline, you have to get your head out of all those books.” “Hi, Darya. My date took me flying.” “Madeline, I never thought you’d go out with a pilot. A college English professor, maybe.” She flopped to her other side, punched her pillow, and yawned.

What was hard was taking care of her mother who grew more dependent each year. She’d even lost interest in bringing losers home.

Madeline joined Al-Anon. At first, for the company. After all, she couldn’t invite friends to the house. The meetings did provide a social outlet, but they were so much more. They gave her a basis for understanding why she was a mess.

Her life revolved around an alcoholic mother. She had been abandoned as an infant, then by the only father she knew, and finally by the mother who chose alcohol over care.

The group taught her strategies. They taught her to detach herself from her mother. They taught her to admit she’d been hurt. They tried to teach her not to overreact to situations she could not control. Mostly, they allowed her to talk about her life rather than hide it.

When she was eighteen, Mother died. Her last words stabbed into Maddy’s heart. “I have loved you. Not as much as you deserved but as much as I could.” The young woman cried for the life she might have had if the mother had been stronger. If the father had not left.

After she wiped away the tears, she felt guilt for the relief. She and her sisters arranged the funeral, but they were the only mourners. Eliza Williamson left her life as a downtrodden drunk, surrounded by adopted daughters who struggled to care. Madeline tried to remember happier times, but it was hard. For her sisters, it was worse because they had known only a few years of the good mother.

Maddy enrolled in college, enjoying her classes and making a few friends. Then her life spun out of control. She broke down. It was all over a test she’d studied hard for but failed. Her sisters came to her rescue, insisting she seek professional help as they had.

That saved her life. Al-Anon had been a start, but she had needed more. She found it in Dr. Marrick. Maddy understood she had a touch of OCD. It was okay. She was okay. She learned to control some situations but not to overreact when she could not control everything.

Her psychologist taught her to manage the fear. How to self-calm. She was neither the cause of her mother’s drinking nor the solution to it. She no longer had to hide from friends, worrying they would discover her secrets. She worked on trust issues, trying to form positive relationships. A hard one, but she had finally gone on dates and had a few serious, though brief, relationships.

After each breakup, she fought a sense of loneliness, of fear nothing in life would work out for her. And she fought to maintain the right balance of control—not so much that she was rigid, but not so little she’d spin.

Her go-to comforts had been to keep secrets or to fix things. In psych talk that was called controlling behavior. So, she relaxed, shared parts of her life with friends, and accepted she could not fix all problems.

She finally got a job she loved and was climbing out of the pit of her childhood and teens.

Madeline stretched her arms overhead. She’d fallen asleep but awakened with a start. When she patted the bed beside her, it was empty. Dom was already up, maybe happy she was going home today. He’d be rid of her and all her baggage. Mora could return.

Sitting up, Maddy leaned against the headboard.No. Dom wasn’t happy to have her go. He didn’t always show his affection, but his actions toward her said it all. He was practical, like her. Humans and Immortals weren’t a good fit. Oil and vinegar. Spider-Man and Doc Ock. Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake. She’d never forget him. Though she should be mumbling the Dewey Decimal Classification System like a mad woman or having a full-blown panic attack, she wasn’t.

She’d changed in ways she hardly believed. Maddy fell for a man who wasn’t human, who had goddamn wings, and who killed people for a living. Bad people. But instead of marrying the man, buying a little house with a white picket fence around it, and having a few spoiled brats, she was leaving him. She had to, no matter what. Humans belonged on Earth. They didn’t belong in OneWorld with a gorgeous, grim-but-kind winged assassin of the OneCreator.

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