Page 2

A Few Weeks Later

T he stillness of the hallway presses in on me as I drag the damp rag across the wooden railing.

The aged floorboards creak beneath my slow steps.

A distant clock ticks steadily, marking the fleeting seconds.

My hands tremble as I clean, but not from the morning chill or exhaustion.

No, my mind is far from this place, these walls that cage me.

It drifts to him, the one I can’t bear to leave behind.

Tyson, too vulnerable, and too young, leaves me no hope for his well-being once I am not here to protect him from her.

Through the smudged window at the end of the hall in the backdoor.

I see him in the backyard, right where he always is this time of day.

He’s crouched in the old sandpit, digging away with a pointed stick, lost in a world of his own making.

Little Kimmy sits beside him, her blonde matted hair moving with the icy breeze in the rising light as she pats a mound of dirt with her small hands.

I stood at this very window not an hour ago, watching them play.

Tyson’s round face streaked with grime yet split into a grin so pure and joyful that it pierced my heart.

A rare sight, that smile. A treasured gift in this bleak place.

And now, as I gaze out again, memorizing the slope of his nose and the unruly curls that tumble over his ears, an ache builds in my chest, so sharp I can hardly breathe.

This is the last time I will see that precious face, the last chance to witness one of his unburdened smiles. After today, memories will die with me—blurred images that will dull and fade alongside my last breath.

I squeeze my eyes shut against the burn of tears, curling my fingers into the damp rag until my nails bite into my palms. Each breath shudders in my chest teetering on the edge of a sob.

I want to run to him, gather his sturdy little body in my arms and run with him.

To breathe in his scent of grass and sun-warmed skin and promise him everything will be alright, that I will always keep him safe.

But I can’t. Because the painful truth is, I have failed him.

Failed to protect him from the cruelties of this life.

Failed to shield him from the ugliness lurking in every shadowed corner of this place.

So I stand frozen, watching my sweet boy through a pane of glass, close enough to see the freckles that dust his upturned nose, yet separated by an unfathomable chasm that feels like it is growing so large it will never end.

Mrs. Daley’s sharp voice slices through my thoughts like a blade.

“Rogue!” I flinch, my fingers clenching around the damp cloth as her heavy footsteps thunder down the hallway behind me.

The floorboards groan under her weight, echoing the dread that settles in my stomach.

“Finish scrubbing that railing, then get to the bathrooms,” she barks, her words harsh as they always are. “The king doesn’t visit filth.”

I bow my head, letting my hair fall forward to hide the resentment that surely flashes in my eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Daley.”

I mutter the submissive words knowing any other words will get me beaten with the cane I want to so badly shove up her scrawny old ass.

I can feel her glare boring into the back of my skull, seething disapproval radiating off her like heat.

She has always despised us. To her, I am nothing more than a burden, a slave, someone to take her frustration out on, not that I can complain; she hates Ivy more and it shows with the way she uses her dreaded cane on her; I don’t think Ivy has much skin left that isn’t scarred besides her face.

But for Tyson’s sake, I force myself to stay silent. To swallow the defiant retorts that burn in my throat and numb myself to her cruelty. Because as long as I am here, I can protect him. I can absorb the worst of her anger and shield him from the brunt of her hatred.

So I scrub harder, my knuckles turning white as I grip the rag with bruising force. I picture Tyson’s face, his toothy grin and the way his eyes light up when he sees me, and I let that image flood my mind instead of thinking of the trial that awaits me and Ivy today. Just a little longer.

Because deep down, I know the truth. There is no escape from this life. No happily ever after waiting for us on the other side of these suffocating walls. There is only death.

The click of Mrs. Daley’s heels fades into the distance as I stand frozen, the damp rag hanging limply from my fingertips. A shudder runs through me, shaking loose the paralyzing fear that grips my heart whenever she’s near. Slowly, I turn my head, scanning the hall with wary eyes.

A flicker of movement catches my attention, and Ivy emerges from behind a tattered armchair, her expression solemn but unsurprised. She’s seen this scene play out a hundred times before: The way I shrink into myself, becoming a ghost in my own skin; The way Mrs. Daley scares the hell out of me.

Ivy steps closer, her footsteps whisper-soft against the worn floorboards.

“He’ll be alright, Abbie,” she says, even as she glances at the backdoor; I can tell she is saying that to try to ease my anxiety; we both know he is as good as dead once we are gone.

“Stop thinking the worst; it won’t help anything. ”

I swallow hard, my throat tight with unshed tears. “I can’t help it,” I whisper, my voice cracking around the edges. “Every time she yells, every time she raises her hand, all I can think about is him; about what will happen to him when I’m not here to protect him.”

Ivy’s hand finds mine; her fingers interlacing with my own. “I know,” she murmurs, her voice heavy with understanding.”

“I don’t want to leave him,” I say, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my own heart. “He needs me, Ivy. Without me, he’ll be all alone in this godforsaken place. We’re the only ones who care about him, the only ones who understand him.”

Ivy sighs, her shoulders slumping under the weight of my words. “I know,” she says again, her voice tinged with the same sadness I feel.

I swallow hard, my throat constricting with emotion.

“I need to see him, Ivy. One last time. I can’t… I can’t leave without saying goodbye; he’ll think I abandoned him to her.” The words tear from my throat and crack horridly.

“If she catches you…” she glances down the hall then chews her lip nervously.

“Then go,” she says, her voice soft. “I’ll cover for you. Where has she put you?”

“The bathrooms once I finish here,” I admit and she nods, taking my rag. “Go, be quick and don’t get caught!”

In that moment, I’m reminded of just how much I owe this girl, how many times she’s put herself on the line for me without a second thought, how I’d be dead if it weren’t for her.

“Thank you,” I whisper, the words greatly inadequate but all I can manage.

Ivy just nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Go,” she says again, giving my hand a final squeeze before releasing it. “Before Mrs. Daley comes back.”

I don’t need to be told twice. With a final glance at Ivy, I sneak past the kitchen, my heart pounding in my chest as I make my way down the narrow hallway. The floorboards creak under my feet, each step a risk I’m taking but one that is worth it.

The cold air hits me like a slap as I step into the yard, the wind whipping strands of hair across my face. I tuck them behind my ear with a shaking hand, my eyes scanning the overgrown grass for any sign of Tyson; he’s since moved from the busted sandpit.

There, by the old oak tree, I spot a flash of movement. My heart leaps into my throat as I make my way toward him, each step feeling longer. He’s crouched in the dirt, his little hands digging furiously as he mutters to himself in a language only he knows.

As I draw closer, I can hear his little puffs and grunts of frustration.

“Tyson,” I call softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head snaps up, his wide blue eyes meeting mine. For a moment he just stares at me. Then he’s on his feet, running toward me with a speed that belies his tiny frame.

I drop to my knees just as he reaches me, catching him in my arms and pulling him close. He buries his face in my neck, his small hands fisting the back of my dress as he clings to me.

Tears prick at the back of my eyes as I hold him tighter, breathing in the scent of dirt and sweat. “I’m here,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I’m right here.”

He pulls back just enough to look at me; his eyes searching mine with an intensity that steals my breath as if he knows something is wrong and my lip trembles.

I swallow hard; the weight of that single word settling heavily in my chest.

His face breaks into a smile; a sight so pure and radiant that it momentarily chases away the shadows lurking in my heart. He presses his forehead against mine; his breath warm on my cheek as he pats my face with his hands; his way of saying ‘I love you.’

I feel the hot sting of tears as they slip down my cheeks; mingling with dirt and grime. “I love you, too, Tyson,” I choke out, my voice raw with emotion. “So so much.”

From the corner of my eye; I see Kimmy watching us; her small face etched with a sadness no child should know. She understands; perhaps better than she should, what today means for me and Ivy.

I pull back, cupping Tyson’s face in my hands as I try to memorize every detail - the curve of his cheek, the dimple in his chin, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “I need you to be brave for me, okay?” I say softly, my thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Can you do that?”

He babbles something that makes no sense, which only breaks my heart. How can life be so cruel?