What was she talking about? I rubbed my temples. My head ached. Ached all over.
“I knew where to find you, Elian. Amelia was Daddy’s. But you—you were meant to be mine. I wanted you to belong just to me. So I found you. I found you, Elian. Right where you were supposed to be.”
I was crying. Tears thick and hot fell from dead, dead eyes.
Don’t waste your tears, Elian! I told you that!
“I’m not wasting them! I promise!” I argued.
“It’s okay, Elian,” Layna said, and I believed her. It was okay.
Even if I wasn’t.
“Was she in pain?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I shuddered.
“Was she scared?”
“Yes.”
“Were you scared?”
Silence.
Layna didn’t answer.
Talk to me, Elian!
“Not right now, Amelia.” But I made a promise to. Later.
“Are you talking to her?” Layna asked.
“Who?” I closed my eyes and wanted to sleep. To wish this all away.
“I want to set you free, Elian. Do you want that too?” Layna’s quiet, quiet voice tickled my ears. Wrapped itself around my chest. Squeezing.
“I just want to stop the noise. Take me home,” I sighed.
I was crashing to the ground at top speed. There was no safety net. The impact would kill me.
I was already dead.
There was no Elian Beyer.
Elian James had slipped away.
Who was I now?
Nobody.
Ring around the rosy…
“A pocket full of posies,” I sang.
“Ashes. Ashes. We all fall down,” Layna carried on. Taking the nursery rhyme. It wasn’t mine anymore.
Hers.
“I thought that when I left Pennsylvania I could leave it all there. Where it belonged. I became someone else. Why did you have to take him away?” I asked her. I wanted to know.
“You deserve more than a life full of untruths, Elian. And you know it.” Layna sounded angry.
“Tell Amelia that you’re with me now. Tell her to stay away,” she insisted.
Why would I tell Amelia anything?
Amelia was gone.
You let me leave, Elian. You let me go with him. You could have stopped me. You could have kept me safe.
The guilt was clawing at my gut. It hurt. I had thought I had dealt with it.
I had put it away in small, compartmentalized pieces never to be revisited.
But then Layna…
“Shh, don’t say that!” I exclaimed.
“Don’t say what?” Layna asked.
I wasn’t talking.
Not to her.
“I was a child. How could I have stopped you if you wanted to leave?”
He killed me. He slit me open. He let me bleed. And she saw it all. You’re beautiful, beloved Layna. She watched me die!
“Stop it!” I shrieked, covering my ears.
“Elian! What is it?” I heard Layna’s voice as though from a distance. So far away. Not close enough.
“Layna!” Her name was a plea. A desperate, horrible plea.
“We’re almost home, Elian. Then I’ll take care of you. I’ll make it better. I promise. I’ll set you free.”
Home.
Almost there.
The dark, dark room. Layna standing in the center of it, looking around. I couldn’t go in. I knew without being told exactly what this place was.
“Amelia. She was there. My father, he killed her. In front of me.”
That was the moment when the last semblance of the man I had been crumbled into dust.
Because she had seen. She had seen it all.
Layna’s being in my life seemed like a cruel, cruel joke.
I loved her.
I hated her.
How could I ever look at her again and not see the memories in her coal, black eyes?
Layna was speaking. Unintelligible mumblings.
You were a little boy, Elian. I shouldn’t blame you. It’s not fair.
“No it’s not,” I agreed. Nodding my head. I looked out at the passing landscape. Blurs of color. Not seeing.
Layna was quiet. Driving. Driving home.
He watched me in my front yard. I could see him parked across the street. I recognized the car. I had seen it a lot during the last few weeks.
Every day.
I saw Amelia talking to him. The way she smiled. I heard her laugh.