“Sorry, Momma. I was just getting a gift for Jolie.” Nessie looked up at me, still smiling. She really was the happiest child, not that she could be anything but with a room like this. She had everything she could ever want.
She handed me the book, and I thanked her.
Her little legs rushed her in the direction of our beds, and before I could turn to join her, she was already halfway up the metal ladder to the top bunk.
“Good girl, sweetheart.” The look on Wynter’s face spoke of the love she had for her daughter—her mini best friend—and, somehow, I felt a strange hope from it. Hope, that one day, I could have a family again—a mini-me who’d bring genuine smiles to my face.
“Are you okay?” Wynter’s voice penetrated my daydream, and just like everything else in my life, it was gone in the blink of an eye.
“I’ll be okay.” Another lie told.
“It’s gonna be hard. You’re going to hurt. If you need anything, I’m right down the hall.” She must have sensed my avoidance of voicing my feelings. “I’ll see you at breakfast,” she said, and then she was gone, turning the light out and concealing us in a darker space as she left.
The door clicked shut.
I walked through the lamp-lit room—under the stars projected on the high ceiling—in the gifted pjs that continued to remind me with each uncomfortable step that they were too damn small. Wynter was smaller than me, and she was definitely a woman who enjoyed being skinny, because there was barely an inch of breathing room in her clothes for her body, never mind mine.
I slipped under the covers, diary still in hand.
“Do you want to sleep with me?”
I wondered if Nessie was afraid to sleep alone, though her voice gave no indication.
“Would you prefer me to?” I asked, fluffing my pillows, pointlessly.
“You have a double bed; I’ll get in with you if you want. Sometimes, Momma sleeps with me if I get a nightmare.” Her little face was in my view, her body hanging over the rail of the top bunk like she was some kind of bat-baby.
I didn’t want to alter the look on her face—the look of pure belief that she could change how I was feeling by cuddling at my side.
“Okay.” I smiled, false but believable enough to have her drop down the steps of the ladder.
She crawled into the bed that was now mine, her little body snuggling close as she moved under the sheets.
“I know you miss your daddy, but I’m a good sister.” She wrapped her arm around my neck, holding me close. And a tear that she wiped awaywith her small hand, rolled down my cheek.
“You’re lovely.” I smiled again, and this one had a little authenticity to it.
Her fingers got lost in my hair, curling it and twirling it around her digits. And within moments, she was asleep. Her small body had depleted of energy for the day, her brain ready for rest. A light snore echoed through her pink and pouty lips, and that brought another smile to my face.
I waited until she’d rolled over—curling into a strange position that only children seemed to do—to open the diary that she’d generously gifted.
I pressed the button on the side of the pretty cover. The book unlocked, and I flipped the cover over, no longer seeing the pink horse with wings that filled it, or the love hearts stamped on the animal’s rear that reminded me of the pain in my heart as it continued to break.
I thumbed through the pages to the correct date and month. The day wasn't accurate. The book was set a year in the past—a place I needed all my painful memories to be hidden but not forgotten. Voiced and concealed and archived within this journal.
I rolled over. Propped up on my elbow, I pulled the pen from its holder on the side, then I began to write.
Dear diary. . .
Chapter 2
Jolie–present day
The bright sun above shone through the car window and into the back seat where I lay, and it woke me with a kiss on my eyelids. Long dark lashes tickled the top of my cheeks as they struggled beneath their heaviness to open.
Was it all a bad dream?I could only hope.
A throbbing feeling followed a pain in my neck. My fingers wandered, searching for the cause. The needle tip was still lost in my skin, its contents shifting through my blood, making me drowsy.
