Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
NORTH CAROLINA
P eople she didn’t know moved all around her. The church’s high, pointed ceilings made Adria feel so small. She didn’t want to be here. She just wanted everyone to go away.
The piano played. A large sound that filled the room. Adria hated it. People around her moved to sit, and soft hands guided her to a bench nearest with her father and Jonathan.
Didn’t they understand that she didn’t want to sit next to them?
Didn’t they understand that she didn’t want to be here at all?
The man in black stood at the front of the church and spoke.
He spoke about her mother. About what a great wife and mother she was.
But how could she be a good mother if she left?
Adria kicked the bench in front of her. She did it over and over, until her father put his hand on her knee, stopping her.
She squirmed under his touch, but stopped her kicking.
The man in black stopped talking.
People got up and walked to the casket. Adria watched as people she had never seen in her life left flowers or spoke soft words.
When almost everyone was gone, her father got up. Instead of moving to the coffin, he turned and walked out. Jonathan reached his hand out, trying to take hers. Adria shook her head. She didn’t want to .
“Princess,” he said, kneeling down. “If you want to say goodbye to your mother, now is your chance.”
But she didn’t want to say goodbye. She didn’t want her mother to go away. She needed her here. Didn’t he understand?
Adria shook her head, wetness running down her cheeks. Jonathan reached out and caught one of her tears with his finger. She watched as he brought the tear to his lips and inside his mouth.
“I’ll say goodbye now,” she said, her voice shaky.
He moved away from her, and she felt her breathing ease.
“Alone,” she said with more force.
He smiled, like her command was funny, but he left.
Adria stood in the aisle. Staring at the black box. Shiny, it reflected sunlight into the room.
It took her a while to gather the courage to move. When she was close enough, she reached out her small hand and tentatively touched the smooth exterior.
Pressing herself closer, she forgot it was a box. Instead, she pressed herself closer to her mother. She cried freely now and whispered all the reasons her mother should come back.
“You said I have to be brave. That Federovs keep going no matter what.”
She pressed herself even closer. Why couldn’t she see her? Just one last time.
“Please wake up! Please don’t do this.”
Her voice was rising, and she found the anger bubbling within her.
She hit the box.
“We get back up. We keep going,” she screamed, her voice choking on tears.
Footsteps thundered behind her, and she heard her father’s voice.
She continued to yell.
Hands wrapped around her middle, and she was pulled away.
Her hands reached out, desperately trying to stay. She was angry, but she didn’t want to be away from her.
She should stay, keep her mother company.
“You said tomorrow would be better. ”
Her mother moved further and further away.
“You promised.”
The doors swung shut.
Adria screamed into her empty bedroom. The knife on her nightstand was in her hand before she registered where she was. Sweat saturated her bedsheets.
A light in the hall came on.
“Adria.”
Eric’s concerned face stood in the doorway.
“I’m fine, just a dream.” She turned her tear-soaked face away, not wanting to meet his eyes.
“You don’t have to come in here every time,” she said.
She had always struggled with nightmares, but since Jonathan’s return to the manor, they had gotten worse.
Eric’s Southern voice was warm. “I want you to know you are not alone.”
She laughed. Wasn’t she? That day, Adria’s family died. After those funeral doors shut, she was no longer just Adria; from that day forward, she was the Federov heir. And no matter how many people were around her, she was alone.
“Tea is at Loretta’s today, right?” Eric asked, and Adria was grateful for the change in the subject.
“Yes, after lunch,” she said.
“I think we are ready to start phase three,” he said.
She ran her fingers through her hair. Phase three marked their pointed attempts at disunity within the group.
Adria had been putting it off.
At first, she reasoned she needed extra time to prepare, but as the days moved by, she was less sure what stopped her. Eric moved into her room, opening her closet. After rifling through it, he threw some articles on the corner of her bed, saying, “The only simple days are yesterday.”
She stared at the clothes; he was right, of course.