Chapter 13: A Deal is Ended

Playing nanny for Izad had not been so difficult the first time. The first time he was happy to nurse and fall asleep in a warm swaddle. Not this time. This time, it was as if Satan himself was crawling out of the infant's lungs.

Erika glanced out the bedroom window. It was dark. It had been dark for hours. How many hours did Nadir say he would be gone? It didn't matter, it had been dark before he left. Izad lay on the duvet beside her, red in the face from how hard he was screaming. Erika shut her eyes tight and covered her ears, but it didn't muffle the sound.

"I don't know what you want!" she cried, shouting just to hear herself. "Please, just be quiet!"

She felt helpless as the baby next to her, and even weaker by comparison. Nothing could make him quiet. He refused to take a bottle, even as Erika was practically shoving one into his mouth. He was not at all interested in a knotted soother – not even one soaked in alcohol. Erika had resorted to stripping him bare and dipping him in the wash basin, after attempting and failing to replace his soiled napkin. However, doing so only made him more upset.

Now, Erika's patience was dangling from the end of a rope.

"Stop!" she begged, pressing her ears closed tighter. "I can't give you anything else!"

She didn't want to be in the flat anymore. She never wanted to be there in the first place. She was never supposed to – Izad was never supposed to – be there at all. Everything had been – he had been – a horrible mistake she couldn't take back.

Erika buried her fingernails in her scalp, her teeth grinding like sandpaper. "I just...want it...to...stop!"

Izad's crying grew louder, higher, sounding ever more like glass scraping on glass – a warbling, piercing screak.

The bastard wouldn't let her leave that room. Her mistake wouldn't stop screaming. She had to get away. She had to make it stop. Make it stop. Make. It. Stop!

Because I know you are capable of it, that is why.

Erika seized the baby's throat in a single hand, a feral growl frothing her saliva. She felt the pin-sized vertebrae sever, a chain of rapid pops vibrating between her fingers as they closed shut with every ounce of force she – .

The floor meeting her rib cage is what woke her. She salvaged enough breath to scream, and then surrendered to the burning hot acid erupting from her stomach.

Nadir's reflexes stirred him from a shallow sleep. Though he had not heard anything by ear, his pulse was hammering. Something in his home was not right. He reached for the body lying next to him, only for his fingertips to meet cold bed sheets.

The bedroom door was flung open by a force hidden in the darkness. Before Nadir could sit up to investigate, the weight of another person flung itself onto the mattress. Nadir gasped as a lithe body slithered over his own, and ice pick fingers pinned his shoulders down with an uncanny might. Nadir would have fallen back on his instincts as an officer, had he not recognized the sound of his assailant's voice:

"Nadir! Nadir, what did I do?!" Erika cried, in a tone of voice Nadir had never heard from her before: horror – a horror to surpass every atrocity she'd witnessed. "Where is your son?! Oh, God help me! What did I do to him?!"

Without hesitation nor a word, Nadir caught Erika by the arms and threw her off. His hands could hardly strike a match, they trembled so; but he lit his bedside candle and took it with him while he rushed to the cradle. Erika watched him from behind a mask of fingers.

Nadir found his son unmoving, eyes closed, wrapped snug in a blanket. The candle was set on the dresser top and Nadir hurried to unwrap the swaddle. "Izad, it's Baba," he crooned, his voice wavering. He gently jostled the baby while he unwrapped him, but got no response. He could feel his sanity beginning to slip. "It's Baba. Can you wake up for me, little one?"

He heard Erika begin weeping into her hands.

Izad stretched his arms above his head when the last of his warm blanket was pulled away. He squinted his bleary eyes up at his father, as if offended by the rude awakening. Nadir inspected him, and called his thanks out to Allah when he found nothing wrong. The panic left his body so fast, he felt woozy.

Erika watched Nadir scoop his son from the cradle. He held Izad against his heart as if he never intended to let go again, and covered his face and hair with kisses. Izad, meanwhile, looked grumpy. Grumpy, but alive. He was alive. Thank God, he was alive!

"Please, tell me he is not injured," Erika begged. She hid her flooding eyes beneath hands that felt filthy.

"No, everything is alright." Nadir said, the shake in his voice still there. "He is alright."

He spared a glance at Erika, and guilt forced him to avert his eyes. He suddenly understood what this midnight fright had been about.

"I'm so sorry," Erika whimpered, her body slumping in on itself. "I swear to you, I didn't – ."

"You don't need to swear anything," Nadir spoke in a rush. He paused to let out a sigh. "I know you have fits of terror in the night."

Both were quiet for a short while, too ashamed to look at one another.

Nadir gave a forced chuckle to try and lighten the mood. "Sweet angel, Baba is too old for such a fright," he said, stroking Izad's head. "Don't make a habit of it."

The mattress creaked, and Erika appeared in the corner of his vision. "What's the matter, my dear?" he asked, turning to face her.

Erika didn't answer, she only cast a forlorn gaze over the baby. Tears collected in the concave of her sunken right eye.

"...Erika, what's the matter?"

"Goodnight, Nadir." The words were curt as she made for the door.

"Would it not be best to sleep in a bed tonight?" Nadir asked, walking a few steps after her.

"Don't try to change my mind."

"I insist! You're my guest until morning and – ."

Erika slammed her hands into the edges of the doorway, blocking it with her body. "Nadir," she said, hanging her head, "our contract has ended."

With that, she let her hands slide back to her sides and she made her exit. Nadir leaned out the doorway and watched Erika meander down the dark hallway, as unblinded by the night as a cat. Izad began to wiggle and fuss, insisting to be put back to bed. His father gave him a soft pat on the rear and retreated into their chambers.

When morning light found its way into the flat, it found Nadir alone in the salon. The weary Persian sat on the couch, adrift in a lake of half-formed emotions. On the coffee table sat a tray of breakfast pastries and two cups of tea – one, prepared the way Erika enjoyed. On the couch with him sat a folded blanket, no longer used as guest bedding. In his hands sat a note scrawled in familiar, less-than-perfect handwriting:

"I wish you both well. You know where to find me. – M"

Nadir turned the paper face-down and set it on the tray. He folded his hands and sat staring into nothing. There was no point in leaving that room. Erika was already gone. That note, her only goodbye.

The signature sent the most poignant message. An 'M' in place of her name. Erika was gone, and the Mirage had returned.

Their contract had ended.