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M addy’s mind was clear , no holes in her memory, and she didn’t have uncontrollable urges to worship slavishly at Dom’s feet. She still wanted the Immortal’s arms around her and his lips pressed to hers, but Rath had cured her Sycophancy.

Since Dom had promised she’d return to Earth tomorrow, Maddy expected to sleep better. But she didn’t. Hoping not to wake him, she rolled onto her back, disentangling herself from his arm. With the past haunting her, she lay awake for hours.

A week after the father had deserted the family, the mother shuffled out of her bedroom, her hair ragged, her face swollen, a dirty bathrobe tied at the waist, and slippers on her feet. The girls were watching television. She opened the liquor cabinet and snatched a bottle. Afterward, she shuffled back to her bedroom, the booze tight in her grip. Maddy followed her with her eyes, while her sisters exchanged glances.

Eventually, the mother stopped drinking in her room and brazenly set her bottle onto the kitchen table. She took up smoking as well. In all this time, the father never visited as he had promised.

Fia and Darya came into Maddy’s bedroom one night for a chat. It was a warm summer night and the window was open.

“Let’s face it,” said Darya. “Mother will never be able to take care of us. Our situation is permanent.”

Maddy was excited to go to the middle school next year. Fia would begin her freshman year in high school and Darya her sophomore.

“She’ll get better,” said Madeline.

“No. She won’t,” said Fia. “If she does, it’s a plus. If she doesn’t, so be it. Don’t hope for things that may never happen, Mads.”

“I want Daddy back. Call him. Tell him Mama needs him.”

“We don’t know his number or where he is,” said Darya. “Mother has money, though. Lots of it, but the cash has run out. Since I have access to her checking and savings, I’ve been paying the bills, seeing to all the financial matters.”

Fia said, “I’ll shop for groceries as I’ve been doing. We’ll continue to share fixing breakfast, lunches, and dinners, each of us taking a day.”

Maddy said, “I don’t like to cook.”

“You’ll have to do it anyway,” said Darya, more kind than she should have been.

“I don’t want to.” She was still a child, digging her feet in, hoping that all this would go away if she fought against it hard enough.

“Mads, none of us want this. But this is where we are. Fia and I have had to survive before. It’s all new to you. You’ll learn. You’re smart.”

Fia asked, “Can I still take voice lessons? Can you still dance?”

Darya took charge. “Yes. There’s plenty of money for those things.”

When Madeline began to cry, Fia drew her into a fierce hug. “Tears do no good. They change nothing. Only our actions will change our situation.”

“We’ll have to take care of Mother too. Make sure she eats. Clean her up. Keep her room straightened. I don’t think the housekeeper should go in there,” said Darya.

“I won’t buy her booze or ciggies.” Fia pounded her palm on the bed.

Madeline pushed up to lean against the headboard. “We should talk to her. Tell her we need her to take care of us.”

Darya sighed. “We’ve tried, Mads. She doesn’t care. We are all we have now.”

They hugged each other, something they did often in the ensuing years.

Restless, Madeline slid out of bed. In the kitchen, she turned on the faucet to get a glass of water. Carrying it back to the bedroom, she set it on the nightstand. With her arms folded under her head, she picked up the sad memory-lane trip where she’d left off.

The girls survived for years, eating, wearing clean clothes to school, doing homework, taking lessons, going to movies, buying books, and finding fun things to do. They also listened to Mother’s drunken rants, mopped up her messes, and picked her up off the floor at night to go to bed. Fia and Darya bailed her out of jail for DUIs several times. They hid from her crappy, abusive boyfriends when necessary.

The girls had a few hard-fast rules—they did not invite friends to their house, they were never alone with the visiting men, and they kept their home life secret.

One memorable night, Maddy woke up and went into the kitchen for a drink of water. Mother was there, a bottle on the table, a glass in her hand. Her hair was tangled, her robe mis-buttoned, and her sagging face bore all the signs of alcoholism.

She glanced up from her booze, glaring. Rising from the chair, she stumbled across the room and grabbed Maddy’s shoulders. “It’s your fault he left.” Mother drew back an arm and slapped her across the face.

Maddy crumpled to the floor. Mother kicked and kicked until she lost her balance and fell.

Fia and Darya, hearing the ruckus, raced into the kitchen to find Maddy holding her stomach and Mother passed out. The next day, the girls enrolled in martial arts classes.

They also played out scenarios. What ifs. What if Mother tries to hit one of us again? What if some guy tries to lay hands on us?

Exhaling a puff of breath, Madeline rolled to her side. Her sisters were everything to her, her north stars. What would they say about Dominion? She closed her eyes, but sleep remained evasive because she couldn’t keep the past out of her head.

At the end of the summer before Maddy was to begin her sophomore year in high school, Fia and Darya came into her room. They looked serious enough to scare her.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Darya blurted out, “I’m leaving, Maddy. I was offered an audition for a ballet troupe in New York. I have to take it.”

Madeline shot up straight. “But...”

“I’m leaving, too.” Fia started to cry, hugging Maddy.

Her mouth hung open. “You haven’t graduated.”

“I took classes in summer school. I’m finished. I just won’t go through a ceremony, but I’ll have my diploma.”

Maddy swung her feet onto the floor.

Darya looped an arm over her shoulders, swiping at tears on her sister’s cheeks. “I feel bad, but I have to take this chance, and Fia must make her way in the world. You’ll need to decide which of us you’ll come with. The choice is yours.”

“But why now?” asked Madeline.

“It may be the only chance I get,” said Fia. “We won’t be upset no matter who you choose.”

Madeline chewed her lip. “I want to stay.”

“What?” Darya blinked.

“Until I graduate from high school. Then, I’ll move in with one of you for college.”

“I don’t like it. I won’t go to New York,” said Darya.

“Yes. You will. I’ll do fine until I’m old enough to leave for college. I know the routine.”

“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.