Chapter 30
Tessa's tiny chest rose and fell rhythmically. Her pale hair glowed like a halo.
Grace smirked as she watched the rapid movement of her eyes behind closed lids.
Always seeing. Always.
A curse, really.
Miguel held his daughter's lifeless hand between both of his own. His eyes closed to a sight he didn't want to see. A sight he refused to accept.
Charity's shoulders hunched forward as she clasped her hands together in prayer.
That's right. Pray. See what good it will do you, she thought. Raising a hand to the glass barrier that separated her from them. Laughing inwardly.
Charity jerked upright as a chill swept down her spine.
The sound of maniacal laughter echoed in her ears.
When she raised her pale blue eyes to her aunt Grace, she had the strangest feeling.
"Charity," Jessica's voice seeped through to her consciousness. "Charity.why don't you and Miguel take a break? Dad and I will stay with Tessa. Just a few minutes. That's all."
"A few minutes," she nodded her head. Holding a hand out for her husband.
Miguel walked through the door ahead of her. Head down.
And her gaze drifted to her aunt again.
Grace smiled.
But it didn't reach her eyes, Charity realized. Her eyes told a different story. The words were there.she just couldn't translate them. Yet.
"Charity," Miguel spoke quietly. "You coming? I'm going to go get a cup of coffee."
Her gaze stay locked with Grace's a few seconds more. "Yeah.yeah, Miguel. I'm coming. Aunt Grace? Would you like anything?"
"Nothing for me. Thanks," Grace murmured. Turning her back in dismissal.
Charity fell into step beside Miguel, and as they rounded the corner, they came face to face.
With Ivy. Arms laden with flowers. For Tessa.
And her body shuddered at the sudden, blinding pain she felt. The screams echoing in her ears.
It was starting again.
Only this time.
She didn't know how to stop it.
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Whitney sat on the edge of her mother's bed.
Mouth open in disbelief.
What she had just heard.what Julian had said to her mother.
It was too awful to contemplate. Too awful to imagine.
Something she shouldn't know. Something she wished she didn't know.
But if it were true.if it were true, there was more evil in this world.more evil in Harmony.than she ever could have fathomed.
"Whitney?"
Her mother looked pale. Worried.
"Whitney. You mustn't."
"Is he gone, Mom? He's not here?"
"He's gone," she nodded her head slowly. "How much did you hear?" she asked.
Whitney closed her eyes at the memory of just a few short minutes ago. "Too much."
Eve slipped an arm around her daughter's shoulders in a miserable effort to offer comfort. Reassurance. "You can't tell anyone what you heard. You could put a lot of people in danger. They could be hurt."
"Mr. Cr.Julian?"
Her mother's arm fell from her shoulders, and she wrung her hands self- consciously in her lap.
"You care about him, don't you? You really care about him. You're afraid FOR him."
"Whitney," Eve said steadily. "I'm afraid for them all. Alistair Crane is EVIL. I'm afraid for them all."
And Whitney realized.she was, too.
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He watched her sleep. His weight resting on his elbow as he gazed down at her.
Her hand was splayed, palm up, across her pillow.
"Mmm.Luis," she sighed. Shifting against the white sheets. Reaching for him.
"I'm here, Angel," he murmured. His fingers brushing her blond hair back from her forehead lightly.
"Thank you," she mumbled. Still half-asleep.
He threaded his fingers through hers and held their joined hands to his lips. "You're welcome," he smiled as her blue eyes blinked open. "Anything for you," he promised. Remembering the salty ocean mist on their faces as the waves swallowed up the ragged teddy bear, and the tiny flame of the candle flickered. Then extinguished altogether.
She sighed and tucked her rumpled golden head beneath his chin. Arms wrapped tightly around him. Tears of gratitude slipping down her cheeks and soaking the bronzed skin of his chest.
"Hey," he whispered. Lifting her chin with his index finger and staring into her tear-filled blue eyes. "I thought we agreed.no more tears for Andrew. He's safe. Protected. He knows how much we love him. And he understands.that we have to move on. Life has to move on. So don't cry. He always hated to see you cry. Almost as much as me."
"I love you so much," she smiled shakily. Meeting his lips in a gentle kiss.
Luis's hand slipped to the back of her head. Holding her to him as he kissed her more thoroughly. Pulling her even closer.
"Make love to me, Luis," she sighed as she melted into him. And the sheets fell away.
"I love you," he whispered. Laughing awkwardly as nervous hands fumbled with the tiny buttons down the front of her simple cotton nightgown.
She smiled at him. One of those glorious smiles from long ago as her hands traveled to the hem of the gown. Sweeping it up and over her head and tossing it across the room.
His hands rested at her waist, and he breathed in sharply.
She'd lost weight after Andrew's death. Grief and depression kept her slender even now.
He never realized.
Curves became sharp planes.
Tears stung his amber eyes as he slid gentle hands up her ribcage to cup the fullness of her breast in the palm of one hand.
Her blue eyes glittered as he swept the pad of his thumb across her full bottom lip before he sought her mouth with his own.
He lay his hand over her heart. Sure he could feel its power as it thrummed. He could almost see its broken pieces melding back together.
The yellow room was dappled with sunshine as they loved each other.
And their hearts were filled with hope.
Tessa's tiny chest rose and fell rhythmically. Her pale hair glowed like a halo.
Grace smirked as she watched the rapid movement of her eyes behind closed lids.
Always seeing. Always.
A curse, really.
Miguel held his daughter's lifeless hand between both of his own. His eyes closed to a sight he didn't want to see. A sight he refused to accept.
Charity's shoulders hunched forward as she clasped her hands together in prayer.
That's right. Pray. See what good it will do you, she thought. Raising a hand to the glass barrier that separated her from them. Laughing inwardly.
Charity jerked upright as a chill swept down her spine.
The sound of maniacal laughter echoed in her ears.
When she raised her pale blue eyes to her aunt Grace, she had the strangest feeling.
"Charity," Jessica's voice seeped through to her consciousness. "Charity.why don't you and Miguel take a break? Dad and I will stay with Tessa. Just a few minutes. That's all."
"A few minutes," she nodded her head. Holding a hand out for her husband.
Miguel walked through the door ahead of her. Head down.
And her gaze drifted to her aunt again.
Grace smiled.
But it didn't reach her eyes, Charity realized. Her eyes told a different story. The words were there.she just couldn't translate them. Yet.
"Charity," Miguel spoke quietly. "You coming? I'm going to go get a cup of coffee."
Her gaze stay locked with Grace's a few seconds more. "Yeah.yeah, Miguel. I'm coming. Aunt Grace? Would you like anything?"
"Nothing for me. Thanks," Grace murmured. Turning her back in dismissal.
Charity fell into step beside Miguel, and as they rounded the corner, they came face to face.
With Ivy. Arms laden with flowers. For Tessa.
And her body shuddered at the sudden, blinding pain she felt. The screams echoing in her ears.
It was starting again.
Only this time.
She didn't know how to stop it.
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Whitney sat on the edge of her mother's bed.
Mouth open in disbelief.
What she had just heard.what Julian had said to her mother.
It was too awful to contemplate. Too awful to imagine.
Something she shouldn't know. Something she wished she didn't know.
But if it were true.if it were true, there was more evil in this world.more evil in Harmony.than she ever could have fathomed.
"Whitney?"
Her mother looked pale. Worried.
"Whitney. You mustn't."
"Is he gone, Mom? He's not here?"
"He's gone," she nodded her head slowly. "How much did you hear?" she asked.
Whitney closed her eyes at the memory of just a few short minutes ago. "Too much."
Eve slipped an arm around her daughter's shoulders in a miserable effort to offer comfort. Reassurance. "You can't tell anyone what you heard. You could put a lot of people in danger. They could be hurt."
"Mr. Cr.Julian?"
Her mother's arm fell from her shoulders, and she wrung her hands self- consciously in her lap.
"You care about him, don't you? You really care about him. You're afraid FOR him."
"Whitney," Eve said steadily. "I'm afraid for them all. Alistair Crane is EVIL. I'm afraid for them all."
And Whitney realized.she was, too.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
He watched her sleep. His weight resting on his elbow as he gazed down at her.
Her hand was splayed, palm up, across her pillow.
"Mmm.Luis," she sighed. Shifting against the white sheets. Reaching for him.
"I'm here, Angel," he murmured. His fingers brushing her blond hair back from her forehead lightly.
"Thank you," she mumbled. Still half-asleep.
He threaded his fingers through hers and held their joined hands to his lips. "You're welcome," he smiled as her blue eyes blinked open. "Anything for you," he promised. Remembering the salty ocean mist on their faces as the waves swallowed up the ragged teddy bear, and the tiny flame of the candle flickered. Then extinguished altogether.
She sighed and tucked her rumpled golden head beneath his chin. Arms wrapped tightly around him. Tears of gratitude slipping down her cheeks and soaking the bronzed skin of his chest.
"Hey," he whispered. Lifting her chin with his index finger and staring into her tear-filled blue eyes. "I thought we agreed.no more tears for Andrew. He's safe. Protected. He knows how much we love him. And he understands.that we have to move on. Life has to move on. So don't cry. He always hated to see you cry. Almost as much as me."
"I love you so much," she smiled shakily. Meeting his lips in a gentle kiss.
Luis's hand slipped to the back of her head. Holding her to him as he kissed her more thoroughly. Pulling her even closer.
"Make love to me, Luis," she sighed as she melted into him. And the sheets fell away.
"I love you," he whispered. Laughing awkwardly as nervous hands fumbled with the tiny buttons down the front of her simple cotton nightgown.
She smiled at him. One of those glorious smiles from long ago as her hands traveled to the hem of the gown. Sweeping it up and over her head and tossing it across the room.
His hands rested at her waist, and he breathed in sharply.
She'd lost weight after Andrew's death. Grief and depression kept her slender even now.
He never realized.
Curves became sharp planes.
Tears stung his amber eyes as he slid gentle hands up her ribcage to cup the fullness of her breast in the palm of one hand.
Her blue eyes glittered as he swept the pad of his thumb across her full bottom lip before he sought her mouth with his own.
He lay his hand over her heart. Sure he could feel its power as it thrummed. He could almost see its broken pieces melding back together.
The yellow room was dappled with sunshine as they loved each other.
And their hearts were filled with hope.