My father hesitated, expression shifting from weariness to confusion as he lowered the cup. “You don’t remember?”
I remembered the flames, the cursed symbol on the floor, my mother in her white dress. I was on my knees, holding Auden, choking on ash and dust. The Devil smiled and then…I was here. In a hospital bed.
“Augustus…your mother is gone,” my father said, running a hand over his face as he looked in every direction but mine.
“Gone?” I repeated.
“She…disappeared.”
“Where…did…she…go?”
“I don’t know.”
“She…was there. She…” I coughed.
My father shook his head.
“Is…she…coming back?” I asked.
A quiet sigh escaped my father’s throat, defeat written on every line of his face. "She abandoned us, Gus. I don’t think she is ever coming back.”
My mother was gone.
I heard the words, I knew what they meant, but I couldn’t seem to apply the meaning. It didn’t make sense. She was gone…but where? Why? And without a goodbye?
I remembered the hatred in her eyes as she watched me through the flames, the word demon rolling off her tongue like a curse.
She left because of you and Auden.
Auden.
He was on the bed to my right, awake and seated upright in a dark blue hospital gown. His hair was dripping wet from a shower, the scent of aloe vera body wash wafting pleasantly through the air.
My shoulders sagged with relief. He was alive. He was safe.
With a sad smile, I extended my hand toward him, and he came, like a magnet, crawling into my arms without a second’s hesitation.
I wanted to comfort him, to offer soothing words in response to our mother’s absence, but the glass shards in my throat cut them off before they could reach my tongue.
His bright blue eyes were wide and unblinking when, in a small voice, he said his very first words. “Chocolate milk?”
CHAPTER NINE
Our mother’s absence proved to be a sanctuary for Auden. Words poured from his lips as though he had been verbal for years instead of weeks. He was still quiet, but the words came out easy, practiced.
A little over a month had passed since we moved in with our Uncle Brady, my father taking time off work to lead the search for Mary Saint.
Black-suited detectives had ceased their questioning; their investigation reduced to mere posters painted around Rose Chapel. But no one had seen her since that night in North Lane.
Dishes piled up, floors went un-swept, and since Uncle Brady was in and out of jail, I adopted the role of housekeeper and caregiver while my father drowned his sorrows.
The stench of alcohol poisoned the air every night, empty bottles littering the living room floor while my father sat in his armchair, staring blankly at the television screen for hours.
My mother’s disappearance hit him the hardest.
She had abandoned him, just like she abandoned us. I did not know the extent of his knowledge regarding my mother’s affairwith Joe, but I never spoke a word of what I had walked in on. There was no point adding salt to the wound.
Unlike our father, Auden thrived without our mother. Colour returned to his cheeks. His smile, once a rare sight, now brightened his features like sunlight infiltrating long-forgotten halls.
