“Like Alice on the Brady Bunch?” She gave her sister a look filled with pity. “I’d kick anyone’s ass who called me that.”
Her sister shook her head, her hand loosening that had been gripped tightly on her brother’s arm, her own nervousness apparent. “No, like Alice Cooper.”
Killyama nodded in appreciation. “Hell, I could deal with that.”
Her siblings laughed.
“Do you have one?” her brother asked.
“Uh …” She threw Train a dirty look when he couldn’t stop laughing at her embarrassed expression. “Just call me Mrs. T.”
Epilogue 2
Nine Years Later
“I didn’t do it! You did!” Ela shouted at her younger sister.
“Don’t blame me! I told you I couldn’t reach it!” Bina yelled back, her eyes welling with tears as she bent down next to the shattered glass.
Killyama stood in the doorway, watching as her two daughters argued over who had broken the vase on her desk.
“Don’t touch it. I’ll pick it up.” She stopped Bina before she could cut herself.
The two girls began crying when they saw her.
“I didn’t do it, Mama.” Ela shot her sister a furious look.
“Mama, I told her she wasn’t supposed to be in here.” Bina ran to her, wrapping her arms around her mother’s thigh.
“You both know you’re not supposed to be in here without my permission,” she scolded them. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Killyama went to the kitchen pantry, grabbing the broom and dustpan before hurrying back, afraid one her girls would cut themselves.
“Ela, I told you not to move. I’ll clean it.” She briskly swept up the mess, throwing it into the trash can beside her desk.
The sight of the roses in the trash can set the girls off in tears again.
Sighing, she figured she could mop the rest of the mess up after she dealt with her daughters.
She sat down in the leather chair behind her desk. “Come here.” She held her arms open.
The girls clambered up onto her lap.
“I’m sorry, Mama.” Ela patted her baby bump as if the unborn baby was upset, too.
“Me, too.” Bina laid her head on her shoulder, lifting dark, soulful eyes to her. “Are you going to tell Papa?”
“No, you two are. We’ve told you over and over again that you’re not allowed to play in here.”
“I needed some paper. I used all of mine,” Ela confessed.
“Then you should have asked. You knew I was busy with lunch and snuck in here, Ela.”
Killyama’s calm reaction started the tears flowing again, Ela’s tiny shoulder shaking with her sobs. “I’m sorry.”
“I can either trust you or start locking my door again. Can I trust you, Ela?”
“Yes, Mama. I won’t do it anymore. I promise.”
“I do, too.” Bina wanted to make sure she wasn’t left out if her sister managed to get out of trouble.
“Okay, I’m going to trust you both. Now go eat your lunch; it’s getting cold. I made your favorite.” She gave them each a big hug as they slipped off her lap.
“Save me some!” Killyama shouted out as she heard them running down the hallway.
She sat back in her chair, smiling lovingly at the sounds of their chatter.
“I told you it was going to be okay,” Ela boasted.
“Papa doesn’t know yet. He’s going to make us sit in time-out,” Bina reminded her.
Killyama used her boot to swivel her chair as they started conspiring on how to get out of Train’s punishment.
“I told you to wait another year before taking that lock off,” she reproved the painting that stared back at her.
Shoving her hands in her back pocket to keep from touching it, the sight of her husband never failed to impress her. It was her mother’s talent in Train’s portrait that had convinced Killyama to accept his marriage proposal. Killyama had known her mother could see into the soul of who she was painting, and she had definitely captured Train’s. His love for her was evident with each brush stroke.
When she was working on a particular case, she could stare up at his portrait and ground herself again. Whatever horror that humanity was capable of, it was filled with love, too.
“I see the girls have been busy.” Train’s soft voice had her turning toward him.
“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me? You want me to give birth in my office?” she snapped.
Train gave her a smug smile, coming toward her to wrap her up in his arms. “You’re only mad because I caught you staring at my picture again.”
“You’re lucky it’s your picture hanging there.” She sniffed indignantly, trying to pull away. “If Rider’s bike hadn’t broken down the day he was supposed to give me a ride, there would have been a different picture hanging there.”
Train burst out laughing. “There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening,” he boosted, gathering her closer.