Page 151 of Retribution

The one thing I’m most grateful for is that Willow didn’t have to deal with any of this. She didn’t even get a chance to reunite with her ‘resurrected’ mother. And, I’m thankful that she doesn’t have to suffer or try to understand this trauma. She’s able to continue her life believing that her mother died a tragic death, which she did, but in a way that is easier to process.

Entering into the V.I.P lounge, it’s as if everything else in the room stops.

The world stands still, watching.

Our world, sits with her head lowered and her legs swinging as she sits on the bench with her hands wrapped tightly around the wooden structure.

Trying to swallow the lump in my throat, I inhale deeply through my nose, feeling as if I’ve just taken my very first breath.

Time is inconsequential as her beautiful face picks up, her eyes darting around the room before settling on the two of us.

No money, no time, no action, is a match for the smile that breaks out onto her face.

I watch her eyes crinkle with the smile as she jumps to her feet and sets off into a sprint with her arms stretched outwards.

Before even thinking about it, I’m at my knees and waiting to feel her tiny body fold into my own.

It’s as if everything is happening in slow motion, everything else is blurred out except the sight of my little girl running towards me with all of the determination in her body.

This, this right here is the reason I have to keep fighting another day.

I want to make sure everything is corrected for her sake.

One of her arms snakes around my neck, and the other around Indie’s as we fall backwards from the force of her impact.

The brimming tears in my eyes don’t hold back as my heart aches, but not painfully.

The longer she holds me, I can feel the cracks beginning to subside with the weight in my chest easing.

Everything in this moment is so devastatingly perfect.

Epilogue

Five Years Later

Willow

Where are they?

I can’t find them anywhere.

Pulling out everything underneath my bed, the dust particles dance in the air tickling my nose.

I groan.

“Mom!” I shout, my frustration growing from looking for my ballet slippers for the past twenty minutes.

I swear, I can’t leave anything anywhere in this house.

Shooting up from my knees, I twist my door knob and stomp out of my bedroom and walk across the landing.

“Poppy! Have you taken my slippers again? This isn’t a joke, I have to leave for practice!” I push her bedroom door open to see her sat central with my ballet slippers placed over her considerably smaller feet and the silk ribbons wrapped loosely around her calves.

Folding my arms, I lean against the door frame, waiting for her to respond.

“Lolo, look! I’m just like you!” She smiles at me warmly, her bottom two teeth missing.

“Pops, look. I’ll give you an old pair of mine if you please, stop taking these ones. I can’t afford to waste time looking for them before my classes. You know how important these shows are,” I sigh, walking over and plonking myself beside her.

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