Page 47 of The Killer Cupcake
“Your mother is a good woman. But she doesn’t have any faith in Janey. She didn’t see the broken girl who poisoned the man she loved because she thought love was the sickness that needed to be cured. She didn’t understand—Janey’s pain doesn’t lash out. It turns inward.” Pinkie pressed a fist to her own chest, mirroring the old wound.
"Why is she likethis?" Kathy asked.
Pinkie extended her hand. “Help me bring her back. Just this once.”
Kathy took her hand in solidarity. They ascended the stairs, hands clenched like lifelines.
“Untie her,” Pinkie said.
Elmer limped to the bedside. With practiced care, he and his wife loosened the restraints binding Janey. Elmer pressed a kiss to Janey’s feverish brow—a gesture of such patient devotion that Kathy’s throat tightened.
Mama needs to see this,she thought.How they love her.Kathy thought.
As the elderly couple retreated, Pinkie stripped away the heavy blankets Janey’s other mother had insisted on.
Pinkie tossed aside the cold cloth. “Mama’s stuck in the old ways,” she murmured, smoothing Janey’s sweat-soaked nightgown. “Thinks she’s possessed. That we need an exorcism.” Her eyes met Kathy’s, weary. “It’s not that simple.”
“Nothing about Janey is simple,” Kathy murmured.
Pinkie nodded.“Complicated doesn’t begin to cover it.”
“Will she wake up soon?”
“Should fade soon—we’ve been gone two hours.” Pinkie gestured to the window seat. “Sit. She’ll talk when she’s ready.”
“You mean wake up?”Kathy slid into the chair, leaning toward the breeze.
“No.Talk. You’ll see.”Pinkie picked up her magazine. “We wait.”
Another hour bled past.
Janey’s eyes opened—lucid, and fixed solely on Kathy.
Kathy glanced at Pinkie, still absorbed in her reading, then back at her aunt. Frozen, wordless. Janey lay perfectly still, her gaze unbroken, dark hair stark against the pillow, and partially in her face.
“She’s awake,” Kathy said softly.
Pinkie's head snapped up at the sound. She blinked rapidly, then nodded with sudden understanding. Closing her magazine with deliberate care, no fast actions. She stood. Kathy started to follow suit, uncertain of the protocol, but Pinkie gestured gently for her to remain seated.
Kathy heard Pixie speak to Janey in French, and immediately, Janey's eyes fluttered closed. Tears began streaming down her face like a dam had finally burst. Only then did Pinkie approach the bed with careful steps.
Janey reached for Pinkie with the urgency of a lost child seeking her mother's embrace. Pinkie gathered her close without hesitation, cradling Janey's trembling form against her breasts. Janey wept openly now, her words tumbling out in broken French while Pinkie murmured soothing responses and stroked her hair with tenderness.
Kathy sat frozen in her chair, wishing that she could understand the words that caused such profound anguish. Partof her longed to cross the room and offer comfort, but something held her back—uncertainty, old hurt, or perhaps the recognition that this moment belonged to Pinkie and Janey alone. So she remained still and silent, bearing witness to her aunt's breakdown while her own heart ached with conflicted emotions.
Soon, Janey’s tears subsided, and she calmed down. Pinkie leaned closer, speaking gently to her. Janey opened her eyes, meeting Kathy’s gaze, and gave a slow, hesitant nod.
Pinkie carefully helped Janey sit up.
“You came here to apologize to me?” Janey asked Kathy.
Kathy blinked in surprise, glancing briefly at Pinkie, who was smoothing the tangles out of Janey’s hair. Pinkie gave her a reassuring wink.
“Yes, I came to say sorry,” Kathy replied softly.
Janey sniffled slightly, nodding again. “Okay, okay. We can talk. But we need to hurry—Pinkie says Carmine has a surprise for me.”
“Yes, he does,” Pinkie affirmed gently. “You talk with Kathy, hear her out, and then explain your side of things. Everyone is fine. I’ll tell Carmine you’ll be ready soon. Ma is upset you missed her breakfast. You know how she loves to feed you.”
