“Okay, well, good,” Ava said. “Sorry.”
I shut my art book and climbed to my feet, bag swinging over my shoulder. “Have fun at the party.”
“Augustus–”
I didn’t hear the rest of her sentence as I walked away, tears of frustration threatening to roll down my cheeks.
Why are you crying, little monster?
I had no answer for the Devil. I didn’t like Ava in any romantic capacity. At all. The fact that she, of all people, questioned that after everything just made me feel pathetic. Did she really think our friendship only meant something because I wanted to be with her?
It didn’t matter, not really. Things were changing, and if I couldn’t keep up, Ava would leave me behind.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sleep maintained its distance, lingering in the shadows to ward off the nightmares.
I sat with my back up against the headboard, legs outstretched in front of me, my mother’s journal unopened on my lap. In the dim lamplight, my finger and thumb hovered in the bottom right corner of the leather-bound cover, itching to turn it over.
I didn’t know what compelled me to open it. It was as though my hands were being guided by a puppeteer, unable to resist the biological pull toward the woman who birthed me.
The Devil was uncharacteristically silent as my eyes fell upon the very first entry, my mother’s handwriting causing a lump to form in my throat.
January 7, 2001
My baby is due in two months. Marcus and I are so excited. I am a little nervous too. I don’t know the first thing about being a mother. It is what I am called to be, as a child of God and a woman, but sometimes I don’t feel ready. Everyone thinks Iam being ridiculous. And maybe I am. Being a mother is what I am supposed to do. There is no greater calling in the world.
Marcus and I have been discussing baby names. For a girl, we were thinking Elizabeth or Claire, though I really like Evie. For a boy, we’re not sure. I guess he will have to tell us once he is born. Either way, I can’t wait to welcome God’s precious gift.
I released a shaky breath as I turned the page, my mother’s fears and hopes circling my mind alongside my own anger and guilt. She would have been nineteen when she wrote that entry—I could not imagine preparing to be a parent so young. She must have been so scared. I shook my head and continued reading.
April 9, 2001
Augustus is one month today. He’s such a sweet boy. Not smiling yet, but Father Andrej says he’ll be smiling in no time.
He’s very clingy. He cries when I’m not in the room. He likes to be held. I am exhausted, but I am happy. Being a mother is every woman's dream, is it not? I am so lucky to have a child of my own.
Marcus went back to work straight away, so it’s just been Augustus and me at home. I am scared to sleep in case he needs me, so I’m awake for twenty-two hours a day. Is this motherhood? I miss sleep. I miss peace and quiet. But I love Augustus. I wouldn't trade him for the world. I just wish I still felt like me.
Thank you, God, for making me a mother. I hope I can make you proud and raise Augustus to be a good, loving and obedient child. I have so much to learn, but with your guidance, I believe I can be the perfect mother. I have so much love to give.
I slammed the journal shut, throwing it onto my bedside table as I curled up beneath my sheets, blinking away tears before they could fall.
I missed her.
I hated her.
I missed her.
I blamed her.
I missed her.
I was glad she was gone.
***
The coach pulled up in the visitor car park of Framlingham Castle, students spilling out, eager to stretch their legs.
