Hey all, sorry about the gap in updating. Thanks to Emma, enjoy the chapter. H xx
The house was quiet. Nobody else had returned home. Peter shut the door and looked warily at Maura. She had her arms wrapped around herself, shaking and shivering, her teeth chattering. He put an arm around her, guiding her to the staircase, summoning all his willpower not to start crying again. If he did, he knew he wouldn't stop.
"Come on baby," he said. "Get those wet things off, you're going to catch a cold. Want something to eat? A drink?"
Maura shook her head and started up the stairs to her room. As soon as she gripped the banister with a trembling hand, he pulled her away, cupping her face.
"No, you don't have to go up there Maura. Go into my room, go on baby. I'll get you some of your things. Go on in."
She obeyed and he went upstairs, taking them two at a time, closing the door and looking around him. It hadn't changed since the day he'd had the attic converted for her. Still with the red walls and cream carpet, it was just how Maura had wanted it to be. Even at eight, she'd known her own mind. It was supposed to be her haven, her sanctuary, but in here, maybe even at the very spot he stood, she'd faced unspeakable terror. How many times would she have screamed for him? How many times must she have woken, shouting for help? Crying and terrified. He didn't want to think about it. Grabbing her large suitcase, he opened her drawers and began stuffing her clothes, all of them, into it. She never had to even step foot on the staircase ever again, enter this room ever. He'd sleep in here to spare her the pain, even if he'd forever visualise how and where everything happened. With a cry of rage, he curled his hand into a fist and punched the wall. The plaster flaked and he watched as blood oozed down his fingers.
"My poor baby," he said, sliding down the wall, gripping his hair.
Maura had been crying out for his help ever since she'd been sixteen. Seven years of suffering in silence. Her pleading voice rang in his head and he covered his ears. It did little to help.
"No…no, please no! I'll eat! I'll get better! No! No! Daddy, please!"
He stood by, watching silently as a Police Officer, a mountain of a man, dragged his daughter from under her bed as if she were no more than a doll. She resisted, her hand clutching the wood of her bed, and he hauled her up, yanking her arms across her chest in restraint. It seemed even pointless, Peter thought. Maura could just about muster the energy to speak, it could have been Lexi restraining her and she still wouldn't have stood a chance. Her eyes met his.
"Dad! Daddy please, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll get better! Please! Tell him to let me go!"
"I'm so sorry!"
"Please! I want to stay with you! I want to stay with my dad! Dad, tell him!"
Her screaming and crying echoed up the staircase as she was dragged down. Tears dripped down his face. She was desperate, but he'd heard her promises to get better too many times before and felt powerless to help.
"DAD!"
"Maura, calm it down!"
"I don't want to calm it down!" she screamed. "I want my dad! Let me go, I want my dad!"
He followed them down the stairs, catching them at the front door, Maura still fighting the officer holding her like a wild animal.
"Dad, please don't do this to me!"
"It's for the best," he said. "I can't…I can't look after you anymore."
"I'll be good!"
"You've said that before Maura. I can't watch this anymore. I'm so sorry. It's for the best."
"No! Please!"
The word ended on a sob as he dragged her out. Anthony put a hand on his shoulder and those both jumped at an angry shout.
"Hey! What're you doing with her? What're you doing to my girlfriend? Let her go! Mr. Barton!"
Peter and Anthony rushed outside. Sonny had been alerted by the shouting and had come out to see what the fuss was about. He was making furious attempts to get to Maura, to be held back by Christopher and Tom.
"They're taking her to hospital," Anthony said calmly.
"Like hell they are!" said Sonny furiously. "Dad, Tom, let me go! Maura! Maura!"
"Sonny!" she screamed. "Sonny, please help me! Don't let them take me away!"
"Maura! Dad, Tom, no! Let me go! Let me help her! Maura! Maura!"
"Sonny!"
Maura's cries became muffled as the ambulance doors slammed shut. Even as it drove away, Sonny fought desperately. In despair, Peter hid his face in his hands, but through his fingers, caught the gleeful look on Vincent's face.
The memory faded away and Peter cracked his knuckles. All these years, he'd just thought that had been Vincent being Vincent, the nasty little boy he'd always been but now, it meant so much more. Her pain, his gain.
"Evil little bastard," he said through gritted teeth.
It had been Maura's eighteenth year. She'd just finished college, and his heart had burnt with pride, watching her perform as Eponine in her school's musical. She could have been anything she wanted to be, but he'd ruined her life. Anorexia was about control, the experts has said and he'd felt guilty. She wanted control because he was always trying to control her. At least that was what he'd spent years thinking, until that morning. Knowing the true reason for her need to control now, though, didn't make him feel any better. He closed the case and took it downstairs. Maura was sitting on his bed, still in her wet clothes.
"Maura, honey, come on," he said, peeling off her wet raincoat. "You'll catch your death sitting in those. Get them off and come to the bathroom. Wear my dressing gown if you're cold. I'll run you that bath." He kissed her head. "I love you Maura."
He didn't expect an answer, nor did he get one. He left and she obediently took her clothes off, wrapping herself in his gown. It nearly reached her toes. She stared at the suitcase. It looked like he'd brought all her clothes. He wasn't going to make her sleep in her room tonight, or ever again. That much, she was sure of. She pattered to the bathroom where she found him stirring the bubble filled steaming water with his arm.
"Where's Dominique?"
"Next door," he answered, wiping his arm on his jeans. "You want her? I'll get her."
"No. Let them spend some time with her. They know. Don't they?"
"Yes," he said.
"Do they hate me?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"No, Maura baby, nobody hates you. This wasn't your fault. I'm so sorry. You know I love you, don't you? You know I love you so much. Come on. Into the bath."
She went to pull off the gown and paused, looking awkwardly at him. He got the hint right away.
"I'm downstairs, baby. If you want anything. Anything. Just call."
He left, closing the door. Maura took off the robe, letting it drop to the floor and stepped into the bath, holding her legs to her chest. Despite the hot water, she felt chilled to the bone. He knew and still she didn't feel any better. Now he knew, so would the whole world. Soon, she'd have to relay the entire experience in court, be branded a child-killer and be put in jail where she'd be viewed as scum of the earth. And Vincent? He'd be locked away with dozens more just like him, convinced that it was always the woman's fault. He had never felt any guilt or remorse and he never would. Closing her eyes, she slid underneath the water, blocking the world out.
"NO!"
Maura jerked awake at the anguished shout and peeked out from under the bedcovers. The bedroom door was open and she could hear crying coming from downstairs. The shouting and crying became louder; Maura covered her ears, but not before hearing her dad's voice.
"Connor, Connor, come here son!"
She could imagine him charging to go next door, to shout the odds, but instead he'd collapsed to the floor like his father before him. Rory sat with his head in his hands and Jake with his hands to his mouth, pale faced and shaking his head. Peter was crying again, his arms around his eldest son.
"My boy," he said, hugging him tightly.
"How could he do it? How could he ever do that to her? She's so sweet and gentle. She's never hurt him."
"He doesn't need an excuse. He did it because he could."
"She had a baby," Rory said tearfully. "Our niece. Your granddaughter."
"Her name was Eve," said Peter. "How could I have been so blind? I had her locked up."
"She was sick, Dad," Jake said, lowering his hands. "That was different. You weren't to know this happened."
"I should have," he said. "I'm her father. I'm supposed to protect her. I failed. I came home and found her in bed. I knew something was wrong. I should have pressed it. My poor, sweet baby."
"Where is he?" Connor demanded. "Vincent!"
"In London still," said Peter. "Tom beat him to a pulp. He's in hospital but will be arrested when he's fit to leave."
"I'll fold him into a pretzel if I ever see him again!" said Connor, pulling from his father's hold and getting up.
"Con, where're you going?" Peter called as he went upstairs. His son ignored him and didn't look back, instead going to the bathroom and locking himself in. At the sink, he filled his large hands with water and splashed his face, staring into the mirror. Maura was his baby sister. All her life, he'd sided with her over their father's controlling behaviour of her, turned a blind eye whilst she didn't revise when he told her to and even covered for her when she sneaked out to see Sonny, yet the one time she'd needed him more than ever, he hadn't been there. Exhaling deeply, he left the bathroom and stood in the doorway of his father's room, watching Maura. She wasn't asleep, he could tell. She was shaking too much. Without even taking off his shoes, he climbed on the bed next to her and wrapped a strong arm around her as she sobbed softly.
"Ssshhh sweetie," he said, kissing her head. "It's okay. He's never going to hurt you ever again. Nobody's every going to hurt you ever."
"I'm going to prison."
"No you're not," he said. "I'm not going to let you go to prison. Everything's going to be okay, honey." His hands, as large as frying pans, stroked her damp hair. "It's all right, my darling. Nobody's going to hurt you ever again. It's all right. Rest."
He pulled her head onto his chest and tucked covers around her, cocooning her in, protecting her. When Peter came to see what he was doing, he was holding his sister's body, tears cascading down his face.
"Look at her," he said softly as Peter sat on the end of the bed. "So sweet and innocent. So perfect. I held her like this when she was a little one. I swore I'd always protect her. I haven't."
"She's my daughter. Protection was my job. I promised your mother. She'd be so disappointed in me."
"If she can see us, see her, she'll know you'd have done anything to protect her. She tried to protect herself. She lost because she was fighting a…monster."
"I'd die for her. For any of you. Come, son. Let her rest."
"No. I need to hold her. She's so innocent, so pure."
"She needs some space," Peter said shakily, carefully lifting Maura up. "Come. She's fine where she is, son. She's safe."
Connor stood up and watched as Peter tucked Maura into bed and kissed her head. Tears continued to leak down his face. As Peter led him out of the room, he took a longing look at his sister. He heard Jake, tearful, on the phone to someone as they went downstairs, clearly Smithy.
"Where's Rory?" he asked, wiping his eyes.
"Gone for a walk," he said. "Needed to clear his head. Sit down. I'll make us some tea."
Connor sank onto the sofa cushions, running a hand through his hair. Numbly, he picked up the letter Maura had written. His eyes stared at the last few words. 'Please don't hate me.'
How could he ever hate Maura? How could anyone hate her? Why did Vincent hate her so much? Because she represented everything he wanted to be, but never could. Kind, gentle, generous and clever. He was always competing with her, much to her irritation. His jealousy was plain to see. To everyone but Maura herself. The extent of his hatred for her must have hit Maura herself when it was too late. A mug was held out to him and he accepted it. Peter sat beside him, putting a mug on the table for Jake.
"She sang, Con. She sang for me today. I wish it had been under different circumstances."
"She sang all the time. She was such a happy girl. He ruined her life. She'll never be the same again."
"I really love that girl, I'd die for her. For all of you. If only I'd been there." He rubbed his hair. "If only I'd let her go to London. She never would have been home alone that day."
"We can't spend this time going over 'what ifs,'" said Connor. "If I'd gone straight home instead of going for a drink, I'd have been here. I'd have been able to do something. But I wasn't. I'll have to live with it and so will you. It isn't about us though, Dad. It's about Maura."
"I know," he said miserably as Jake came back in. His stepson picked up the mug he'd left for him and sat down, looking glum.
"Smithy couldn't tell me much," he said to his father and brother. "But the scumbag's been arrested. Lexi of course had a meltdown." He screwed up his face and scowled, putting on a high voice. "'How can you arrest him on the say so of some silly slut? Whoever they are, they're jealous!'"
"Silly slut?" echoed Peter furiously. "Just who the hell is she calling a silly slut?"
"They haven't told her it's Maura. Yet. But even so. She acts like the sun shines out of his… She always had. You know that. Remember Christmas? It was all a joke after all."
Snarling, he sat back into the pillows. Peter put down his mug and went to the mantelpiece, picking up a picture of Maura. She was six years old, the picture of wide eyed innocence, a smudge of chocolate on her face, a gap in her toothy smile. His pride and joy. And yet, just ten short years later, her life would be destroyed. Tears filled his eyes and he ran a hand through his thinning black hair.
"Dad?" Jake said cautiously.
He put the picture down and turned around, wiping his eyes.
"Food," he said. "Are you boys hungry? Want pizza? I'll make some pizza."
Without saying another word, he walked off. Jake looked stumped and made to rise to follow. Connor held up a heavy hand and he stopped.
"Don't, J. Leave him. You know what he's like. A bit of dough pounding will do him some good."
"How was she?" he asked, looking to the ceiling.
"Completely traumatised," he said quietly. "I haven't seen her like this since…"
"Don't," said Jake, closing his eyes. "Please, Con, I don't want to think about that day. She needed help. But not like that."
"We didn't know that at the time," said Connor softly. "He'll never forgive himself for this."
"Neither will I. I should have fought him more about taking her to London. Should we go and find Rory?"
"No. Leave him. He won't want us around, not when he's crying. He probably won't be back for the rest of the night."
"He'll miss dad's pizza. Poor sod."
They both laughed and there was an awkward silence. What do you say, Jake wondered. How do you make something like this right? His eyes narrowed and he looked next door. Not that some people could ever make it right. Vincent was scum of the earth, but somehow, to him, Sonny and Tom seemed so much worse. They deserted her. Cast her aside. Abandoned her when she needed them the most. Branded her a liar. Sonny, who had on their wedding day promised her the world, broke her heart. Tom had been her best friend, but when it came down to it, blood will out, no matter how bad it was. The delicious smell of baking bread, herbs and tomatoes filled the house. Maura loved Peter's pizza. He very much doubted the melt-in-the-mouth food would taste very good right now.
Maura awoke twisted in bedcovers and bathed in sweat. She was dismayed that her brother was no longer there. She'd only fallen asleep because he'd been holding her. Making her feel safe and secure. She sat up, got out of her father's bed and went to the bathroom for a shower. She stood naked under the water and picked up Peter's razor. Maura closed her eyes as the blade sliced her skin. It didn't even hurt anymore. She pressed harder and clenched her teeth together. There it was, the old familiar sting. She got out and bandaged the arm, hiding it under a jumper. Her hair went into a plaited up style, mimicking a crown. Maura crept halfway down the staircase and sat down, listening. She could hear quiet murmuring from the sitting room and could smell pizza cooking from the kitchen. She hadn't had Peter's homemade pizza in years and despite her misery, she felt hungry. The house wasn't usually this quiet. Where was Brad? Connor probably didn't want him here to witness this. He was a good father. She wasn't a good mother. She never would be, no matter what Smithy said.
Maura jumped as the door opened and Rory came in, his hair wet, removing his denim jacket. He placed the wet clothing on the banister, and looked up the dark staircase, straight into Maura's eyes. His face crumpled and held out his arms.
"Come," he said softly, holding out his arms.
Maura edged back a step, shaking her head. She saw the hurt in his eyes and from the corner of her eye, saw Jake and Connor in the sitting room doorway.
"Please, Maura baby. Come here. I need to hold you."
"Rory," Connor said warningly as he put a foot on the staircase. "Don't push her."
Rory ignored him. "Please Maura. Please."
A tear ran down his face. Maura ran down the stairs to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet, holding her tightly.
"I love you so much, Maura. We all do."
"I don't want to go to prison!"
"You won't. I promise. Nobody will touch you ever again." He kissed her head and whispered, "I smell pizza, baby. Shall we go and have our share, before these greedy swines have it all?"
She choked out a laugh. "Don't touch my plain cheese pizza."
"There's a plain cheese with your name on it, my darling," Peter said, rubbing Maura's shoulders. "Come."
"I don't want to talk about it. Please."
"Okay. Anything you want," he said, prising her off her brother. "You go in on." He watched her totter off and turned to his three sons. "Now, you heard her. Don't mention it. Don't mention him. Don't push her. Now, dinner's getting cold."
He went through to the kitchen and they followed. Peter sat at Maura's left, Jake on her right and the twins opposite. Maura, strangely, was the only one eating, it took a few minutes before the others followed suit. Jake's phone rang as he was finishing his last bite. He glanced at the screen and snatched it up.
"Smithy. What's going on? Yeah…she's…she's fine," he said, glancing at Maura, who shrugged. Jake raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? How did she take it? Oh, there's a big surprise… she is?... she did?... No, thanks, I'll tell her…What? Oh!" He bit his lip. "Hold on." He held his phone away from his mouth and said to Peter, "He has some time off. He wants to come and see us. See Maura."
"I really don't think…" Peter said, his mouth already set in a 'no' before he looked at Maura and stopped. Her pleading eyes stared into his and he sighed. He'd already let her down once by not letting her see the self same friend. He couldn't do it again. "He's welcome. Of course."
Jake smiled slightly. "We'd love to see you. When are you up?" He stood up and looked at the calendar over Rory's shoulder. "That's no problem; I'll get you from the airport. Yeah. See you then…bye."
"What did he say?" Maura asked quietly.
"Lexi knows," he said. "She's on her way back here. They…they played her the recording Maura."
Maura pushed her plate away, feeling sick.
"She blames me. Doesn't she?"
"She didn't say anything, Maura. But she's on her way home."
"Don't worry about her, baby, do try to eat some more," Peter said, pushing her plate back towards her. "I flattened that crust just for you. Thin and crispy. The way you like it."
"When's Smithy coming, Jake?"
"A few days," he said. "I'll have to dig out the airbed."
"It's all right Dad," isn't it?" said Maura, staring at him. "Him coming."
"Of course it is," he said, squeezing her hand. "If it makes you happy. You can have whatever you want."
"I can't have Eve. Can I?"
"No," he said, as the boys looked at each other warily. "You know that if I could, I'd bring her back. But I can't."
"If…if I could have given my life for her that night…"
"Don't. Don't Maura, please. Don't say that."
"She was just an innocent baby. Why her?"
"You were an innocent baby, too, my innocent baby. These things, they just happen. I know it isn't fair."
"She was beautiful."
"I know," he said. "You were her mummy. Of course she was beautiful. I bet there was nothing of that monster in her."
"I wouldn't have let her be anything like him. She was mine." She pushed her plate away again. "I'm sorry; I don't think I'm hungry anymore."
Peter made to argue, but a glance from his three sons stopped him. He sighed.
Okay. I'll leave it in the fridge for you. If you don't eat it tomorrow, these gannets will."
"Get the appetite from you," Rory said. "Greedy to the end."
"At least I'll die happy," he said patting his stomach. He picked up Maura's hand and squeezed it, his bright eyes serious. "Listen, darling. Whatever happen, you'll always have me. Us. We won't let you down."
The five all looked towards the door at the shrill ringing of the doorbell. Connor's eyes narrowed and he made to get up.
"Sit," Peter said so sharply, he started. He got up and opened the door. There was an angry silence.
"Decided to show your face finally?" he said coldly.
"Mr. Barton," Sonny said quietly.
Connor moved to put an arm around Maura's rigid shoulders. She could feel the anger radiating from him and her two other brothers and trembled.
"What do you want, Sonny? Maura doesn't want to see you."
"I know," he said shakily. "I know she doesn't. So I won't ask. She'll have every right to hate me."
"Noble of you to think so. When you asked me if you could marry her, I said yes because I thought she made you happy."
"She does!"
"I thought you made her happy too."
"So did I. I love her."
"You have a very funny way of showing it," Peter said scornfully. "That brother of yours is bad. But you, you're ten times worse. She needed you and you let her down."
"I know, and I'm never going to forgive myself for that."
"You're in good company there, son, cos none of us will either. It's getting cold and this is getting boring. You've got about ten seconds to spit out what you want before I shut this door."
"Dominique!" he blurted out. "How…how long do you want us to have her for? We're happy, for as long as you need the space…"
"The weekend," Peter said stoutly. "Have her for the weekend and bring her back Monday."
"Okay. Uh..."
"Anything else?"
"No. I guess not."
"Thank you," Peter said coldly and shut the door in the younger man's face. He came back through to the kitchen, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He made an attempt to smile at Maura. "It's okay baby," he said. "You don't have to see anyone you don't want to see."
Once upon a time, she would have screamed at him for interfering in her life but now, could only feel grateful to him for taking control at a time when she felt particularly powerless.
"Thanks," she said softly. "I'm…just gonna go to bed." She got up, and at the kitchen door, turned back. "Um…do you still have the pills the Doctor prescribed? For sleeping?"
He looked as if he'd refuse before relenting and retrieving them for her from the drawer. Pressing them into her hand, he kissed her head.
"You sleep well, my darling. Call me if you want anything. My room's yours, okay?"
"Okay," she murmured. "Night."
She tottered upstairs as if she were in a daze. When the bedroom door closed, Rory looked at Peter.
"Dad, you can't let her keep taking those!"
"She needs them," he said flatly.
"If she becomes dependant on them…"
"I won't let her take them every night," he said. "But for now, she needs them."
"Dad, I know you feel bad but giving her what she wants isn't the answer."
"What am I supposed to do, Rory? This all happened because I wouldn't let her go away. She wants to see her friend. I can't stop him coming. She doesn't want to talk about a painful time. I can't make her. She can't sleep. What do you suggest I do, leave her there tossing, turning and crying? Maura needs to rest. It's been seven long years of hell."
Rory pushed his own plate away and sighed. "I know," he said quietly. "But Dad…she's taking what mum used to take."
"I know, son," he said, squeezing his shoulder. "I won't let her end up like your mother. But right now, just for tonight, she needs the sleep. Okay?"
"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll clear this stuff up."
Quietly, he cleaned up the kitchen and without asking, poured four drinks. The men sat around the table, drinking quietly.
Maura lay in her dad's big bed, wrapped in her duvet, her eyelids becoming heavier as the sleeping pill took effect. When her husband had come earlier, she'd been torn between wanting to jump into his arms and slamming the door in his face. She could hear the pain in his voice. He was torturing himself. As well he should. Maura wrapped her arms around her favourite childhood teddy bear, and rolled facedown into the cushions.
Soon, she was walking, stumbling every few steps, wandering through a dark park.
"No, no, please no! Wake up! Wake up!"
She walked behind a cluster of bushes; flowers held in her hand, tears flowing down her cheeks, bare feet crunching in the snow beneath her. She stood above the spot, shaking with sobs. She fell to her knees and with a shaking hand, laid the flowers on a mound of earth. Suddenly, it crumbled away and a hand emerged, grabbing onto her finger in a strong, inhuman grip. She screamed.
Maura sat bolt upright, screaming, acutely aware of the hands on her, squeezing, her not letting her go, keeping her at the graveside. The baby cried.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Eve, I'm sorry!"
"Maura! Maura come on, wake up!"
"Eve, I'm sorry!"
"Come on Maura, come out of it! Wake up! Wake up!"
Breathing heavily, she opened her eyes and looked at the four concerned faces surrounding her, her brothers bare chests on show, wearing only boxer shorts. Peter was holding her to him, stroking her back, repeating that it was all right.
"It was just a dream. Just a nightmare."
He smoothed back her sweaty hair and kissed her, trembling with her. Her scream had been terrifying, it was unbelievable that someone so innocent looking could make such a horrible sound. He looked up at his three sons, who looked just as freaked out.
"One of you, run a bath. One of you, get a drink. Something cold. And one of you, change these bedcovers. Come on darling."
He swept her into his arms as if she was still six and carried her into the corridor. She clung to his neck and heard him thank one of the three who brought her a drink of warm milk.
"Dad, it was Eve," she said, her voice tight.
"I know baby, I know."
"I abandoned her."
"You were just a child yourself. You panicked."
"I lost my rosary that night, Dad, the one you gave me." She looked up at him tearfully. "It was buried with her. I don't have them. I can't give them to Dominique. I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter," he said. "I've still got you. Material things don't matter."
"But…"
"It doesn't matter. You're more important."
"Bath's ready," Jake said, poking his head around the door.
"Go on baby," Peter said, helping her up and looking pointedly at Jake who scurried out of the bathroom, taking the hint quickly. "I'll make your bed up for you."
Maura closed and locked the door, breathing heavily for a few moments, inhaling the steam. Slowly, it felt better. She stripped off her clothes and climbed into the bath. The water was warm, but did little to make her feel so. It had always been a recurring nightmare. Sometimes, she could smell her. Sometimes, the grave would be open and she could see her decaying… STOP!
Maura gripped her swimming head and started at the end of the bath. Slowly, she picked up the razor again.
Peter was fluffing the pillows when Maura came back, the faint glow of dawn shining through the curtains. He smiled as she sat on the bed.
"Hey sweetie," he said. "Your milk's there, I warmed it for you."
"Thank you," she said, picking it up and sipping it.
He sat next to her, a glass of water in his hand and reached for her arm with his free hand.
"Listen honey, I know that right now, things seem like rubbish, like you'll never be happy again. But you will be."
"How do you know?"
"Because you don't have to keep your distance any more. For the first time in forever, I finally understand. It'll take time, but we can fix this hand in hand."
"You think so?"
"I know so," he said and she downed the milk quickly, settling against the pillows. He tucked the crisp, fresh sheets over her. "Try and get more sleep now, Maura. It's nearly five."
Maura grabbed his arm as he made to rise, a desperate look in her eyes.
"Stay. Please, Dad. Hold me."
"Okay," he said, lying in the empty space beside her. Maura pulled herself closer, her arms around his waist. He kissed her softly. "I love you, so much."
"I love you too. I'm sorry I let you down, Dad."
"You didn't Maura, I let you down. I'm sorry I didn't let you go to London."
"I spent years being angry at you. Then I realised that he wanted to hurt me. And he would have found an opportunity to do it regardless. It wasn't your fault."
"I was supposed to look after you
"You have. You're an amazing father. There was nothing you could have done to stop him. Just like I couldn't defend myself."
Her voice broke and he hugged her tightly. It was tighter than she needed or wanted but it was his way of keeping her out of harm's way, never letting anyone touch her again.
And on the other side of the wall, Sonny, tears streaming down his face, was cradling his own baby daughter, vowing to never let any harm come to her as long as he lived. And one day, if Maura would allow it, he'd do the same for her.
