Chapter 16
Scarletta
I'm six years old and Daddy is building me a kingdom made of cotton flannel, and polyester blend, and rayon puffer sleeping bags—the softest materials in the whole house, all gathered up and draped like royal tapestries.
The walls of the kingdom are chair backs standing sentinel, cushions stacked like fortress stones, and broom handles propped at careful angles to hold everything together.
There's a moat—because every princess castle has a moat to keep the Dereks away.
The blanket fort stretches across the entire living room, swallowing up the coffee table and the ottoman and half the couch. The fabric glows amber from the flashlight he tucked inside somewhere, the beam diffused through layers of sheets and quilts, turning everything soft and golden and safe.
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"This one goes here, Lettie-bug," he says, his voice distant and warm. His hands are huge, pinning the corner of Mom's good bedsheet to the bookshelf with a stack of encyclopedias.
I'm holding the other corner, standing on tiptoes, trying to reach.
Everything moves slow. Like underwater.
The sheet ripples and sways even though there's no breeze. Dad's face blurs at the edges when I try to look at him directly. But I know he's smiling. I can feel it.
"Will it be strong enough?" My voice sounds small. Far away.
"Strong enough for what, baby girl?"
"To keep the monsters out."
He laughs. The sound echoes and multiplies, bouncing around the dream-memory until there are a hundred versions of his laugh surrounding me.
"Ain't no monsters getting through this fort," he promises, crawling inside on his hands and knees. "Come on. Let me show you."
I follow him in.
The space inside is bigger than it should be. Impossibly big. The sheets stretch up and up like a cathedral ceiling, and the flashlight beam doesn't have a source anymore—it's just everywhere, golden and safe.
Daddy pulls me into his lap. He smells like coffee and Old Spice."See?" He wraps his arms around me. "Nothing can hurt you in here. This is yours. Your space. Your world."
I lean back against his chest. His heartbeat is slow. Thump... thump... thump...
But it's not true.
Things can hurt you everywhere.
The world is filled with Dereks who slither under the water looking for cracks in your cushion foundation.
I'm going to tell my dad this. As a grown up now, not as a child, but when I look over my shoulder, he's gone.
I'm alone.
Like always.
And the moment this thought hits, the blankets start dissolving. Becoming transparent.
Wake up.
The thought cuts through the dream like a blade.
Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP?—
