“Yeah, so do I. But he’s adorable, so it’s fine.” She crouches down, running her hand over Murten’s back, her eyes shining with a loving warmth. “He’s my ship cat. The day I found the boat was the day I found him, and we’ve been friends ever since.” She points up at the small hatch he crawled through. “When I started fixing it up, I made him a little door so he can get in and out whenever he wants, even if the main hatch is closed.”
“He looks like he’s got it good.”
She nods, but her eyes turn sad. “I wish I could give him a real home. I can’t bring him to the mansion, though, so the best I can do is make this place comfortable and keep him well-fed.” She shrugs. “He doesn’t seem to mind too much, though. I think he likes freedom.”
I crouch down beside her, offering my hand for Murten to sniff. To my surprise, he rubs his head into my palm, and my heart swells as the scruffy cat allows me to give him some scratches. “Eloise…” I wonder how she’ll respond to my next question. She’s shied away from answers every time, but maybe it’s different now. Perhaps her showing me this place is her letting me know she’s finally ready to talk, to open up.
“Eloise, why can’t you take the cat home? Why were you so scared yesterday?” I turn to face her fully, my eyes searching her face. “What’s going on?”
She sighs, running her palm over her cat’s back absentmindedly as she stares out at nothing. “It’s… a long story.”
“I have all the time in the world.”
She turns to me now, smiling—but it’s not an entirely happy one. “Truthfully, I don’t know where to start.”
“I find the beginning is always a good place.”
She settles onto a comfortable place on the floor to begin her story. “My parents died when I was four. I don’t have many memories of them, but I do remember the day I found them…”
I sit utterly still, giving her my full attention.
“I have this image in my mind when I close my eyes—a room bathed in red. It took me years until I realized what it really was, and it made everything so much worse.” She looks down at her hands clasped in her palms, digging at her cuticle. “My dad… He wasn’t well mentally. His family didn’t believe in mental illness, so he never got help.” She shakes her head with a sigh. “One night, he was convinced that my mom was cheating on him. The details are too gruesome to recount, but it ended in him taking her life and then his own.” She looks up, a strange coldness in her voice as she speaks. “I was in the other room. The cops found me two days later when a neighbor called for a wellness check.”
I reach out, covering her hand with mine, wanting to give her some comfort as she continues.
“That’s not even the worst part—not really,” she says. “The worst part came after. When I was given over to Dave Blasko, my godfather.”
“I thought he was your manager?”
“He is. But before that, he was the only living family member I had to take me in. As soon as I was put under his custody, Dave enrolled me in all kinds of music lessons. He was a talent scout for one of the major production companies in Neon Valley, and when he discovered I had a knack for the piano, he put all his effort into molding me to be the best of the best.
“I was taken out of school in second grade so I could have more hours a day to practice. For years, I wasn’t allowed contact with anyone other than Dave, my piano teacher, the guard, or my private tutors. I never went to school, never had a boyfriend or evenfriends.All I did—all I lived for was to play piano. And I started to hate it. I started to hate everything.
“I was consumed with it—this horrible, ugly despair. It tarnished everything I looked at, stripped the color from beautiful sunsets, and made it impossible to do even the simplest tasks. I was lonely, desperate, and sad. So very, very sad. The kind that infects, festers, and slowly drains the life from you until nothing is left but a husk. And so, on my sixteenth birthday, I tried to take my own life.”
I jolt, my mind picturing the articles I found all those weeks ago. Eloise’s mysterious hospital visit, and the months that followed, when no one knew where she was. “No…Eloise…”
“Clearly, I wasn’t successful,” she says. “Dave found me in time, and the doctors were able to save my life.” She looks off into the distance, her eyes glazing over with a faraway look. “When I woke up, I was strapped to a bed in the psych ward. For months, I was in there, and it was…” She shudders, unable to continue. “It was unbearable. And I was so excited to get out that I never considered what my life would be like on the other side. I never stopped to think it would be worse than before.”
“And… it was.”
She nods. “When I got out, I found out Dave was granted full conservatorship powers over me. He convinced the courts that I wasn’t capable of handling my affairs or even basic decisions. Over the years, he staged several more ‘breakdowns’ until they eventually awarded him full power over me and my estate on my eighteenth birthday. They stripped me of my bodily autonomy, my rights, and declared I’m to live with Dave until it’s decided I’m capable in the eyes of the court.” She laughs, the sound cold and hard. “Which will never fucking happen. I’ve tried so many times to have my case heard, to get away. Every time, I’m turned away, given back to Dave, and it’s even worse than it was before. I’m trapped. Truly and utterly trapped. And there’s nothing I can do.”
“Oh, sweet Eloise…” I’m floored by the information, unable to wrap my head around it. How could this happen?How? “You’ve never hadanyoneto talk to? No one you could go to for help? No family? No friends, ever?”
She shakes her head. “Never. And just my guard, Forest—if you can count him as a friend. He’s not the biggest fan of conversation, so I’m not quite sure if we’re cool or not.”
My heart breaks for her, but at the same time, she doesn’t seem all that upset about it. “That sounds… horribly lonely.”
“Oh, it is.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her beautiful eyes. “But I have my music. I have my books. And now… I suppose I have you, too.”
She reaches out, initiating contact, and warmth spreads over my skin.
“You have me, Eloise,” I whisper. “You have all of me.”
Her cheeks heat, and she goes to pull back, but I flip my palm over and grip her wrist, holding her in place. “Please don’t go.”Please don’t shut me out. Not now, not when we’ve come so far. Not when I’m so close.“Please… just sit with me for a little longer.”
She lowers her gaze, but keeps her fingers wrapped tightly in mine. “Okay,” she whispers.
