Lia
“C’mon, baby. Time to go!”
I zip up Aurora’s pretty pink dress, and fluff out her red curls.
My memory of mamaí is growing more distant with every passing day, but I can remember her commenting about that—how redheads should never wear pink.
Aurora looks sweet in her new pink frilly dress, though, and anyway, she’s the one who chose it.
Which surprised me, because she doesn’t usually care about clothes.
In fact, in a lot of ways she’s the polar opposite of me.
Fashion used to mean a whole lot to me. So did sports—I tried just about everything I could, and I loved my bike.
But I’ve never seen such an uncoordinated, unbalanced girl as my daughter.
Logan got her glasses, though I’m not sure how he managed, since the only town in the safety perimeter Everest and he set up when we first arrived doesn’t have an optician.
Those glasses have done wonders for her sense of balance, but she’s still the biggest klutz I’ve ever seen.
She’s my klutz, and I love her to death.
I love reading books to her, and snuggling under the covers and inventing spooky stories together.
Lately, she’s shown interest in letters and words, so I’ve been trying to teach her to read.
But I was never that good in school, and I’m starting to get nervous about the fact that if we weren’t in hiding, she’d be starting kindergarten next year.
I don’t think I have it in me to homeschool, but Logan’s never mentioned school.
And he’s got enough on his mind; I don’t want to worry him with this.
I’ve noticed how preoccupied he is lately, and every day it seems to get worse.
At first I was afraid he was sick of our isolation, that I wasn’t enough for him.
Then I realized that he doesn’t consider this situation to be permanent; he never planned to hide forever.
He’s working on something, and whatever thing he’s working on could allow us to one day live relatively normal lives again.
But I don’t know what a normal life is. I’d be perfectly happy living this one forever. Still, I guess I can’t possibly expect a man who spent three years hungrily seeking power to just… abandon it all overnight for me.
I have no idea what he’s planning, though, because he’s completely shut me out of it.
It’s the one area of his life he’s not forthcoming about.
All I know is that he has long conversations with Everest, who seems to be acting as the go-between for Damien.
I don’t think Logan has spoken to Damien a single time in the past two years.
From what I understand, they’ve cut off communication to keep each other safe.
Logan’s also taken drastic measures to keep me safe. Things often feel so normal that I forget we’re in hiding. And yet, even though both Logan and Dolores go to the town nearby, I’ve only been there a few times with Logan. I’ve never left the house alone.
For all my happiness, he’s never allowed me to forget what I am—his captive. I can’t leave the house, I don’t have money, or a say in most decisions. Any other person would probably go mad at being so restricted.
I’m all kinds of fucked up, I guess, because it doesn’t bother me too much. The only thing that does bother me is that it means I can’t buy Logan a birthday present.
Until today. It took two years, but I finally managed to earn some money. Eighty dollars, to be precise. I set that goal two years ago, and I’ve reached it. I learned how to paint, and spent about a year and a half struggling to make anything half decent.
Logan is aware of my new hobby, of course—I had to ask him to buy me the material.
I think he’s happy I have something to do on the afternoons he spends locked up in the bedroom, talking to Everest. Since he spends that time away from me, he hasn’t seen how good I’ve gotten.
Good enough that over the past week, Dolores secretly went around to a few galleries and cafes in neighboring towns and tried to sell my work.
She didn’t manage to sell any but one, and only this morning, on the very day of Logan’s birthday—a painting of Aurora. But the person who bought that painting, bought it for the exact price I’d fixed for myself. Eighty dollars.
It feels like a goddamn miracle, and now, it’s on to part two of my plan: buy the actual present.
That’s also a whole undertaking. I’ve had to wait for Logan to lock himself in the bedroom with his phone for his usual noon-time call. I calculate I have about one hour ahead of me, but there’s no way I could get the car.
I’m just going to have to walk to town with Aurora.
“Ready for a long walk?” I ask Aurora.
“Yay, mama! Is papa coming?”
“Nope. Papa’s working.” I kiss her head. “We’ll let him work, okay, baby? We’re off to town to buy him a surprise. It’s his birthday today.”
“Let’s go!” she squeaks. “Let’s go, mama!”
“Uh huh. One second.” I put the finishing touches on my hair, then walk out the door with her, a finger on my lips. “Let’s be as quiet as mice, Aurora. Remember, it’s a surprise!”
If I’m being honest with myself, the surprise isn’t really the reason we’re being quiet—I have the nagging suspicion Logan would be upset if he found I’d snuck out.
But being stuck in his cage can get stifling at times.
It’s strange that I only realize it when I leave it temporarily…
for the purpose of buying my captor a gift.
But at last we’ve gone a few yards up the country road, and I breathe easier. “What do you think papa would like?” I ask my chatty little girl, smiling the way I always do when I remember how effortlessly she fell into the habit of calling him that.
“Hmm.” She scrunches her cute little face into a thoughtful frown. “A drawing!”
“Well, yes.” I realize he probably would have appreciated that more than anything I could think of to buy. But then, I wouldn’t have had a reason to leave the house. “How about something we could buy?”
“A story? Peter Pan! Cinderella!”
“I think papa knows those stories already. And he likes reading them to you. Maybe I could buy a book, but…”
But what kind of book does he even like?
There is a lot I still don’t know about him. I’ve seen him with a book in hand, but try as I might, I can’t recall the name of any of the ones he’s read.
“A… a… a dollhouse?” suggests Aurora.
I grin. “Why do I get the feeling you’re the one who wants the dollhouse?” I tease her.
“No!” She shakes her head very seriously. “Papa wants the dollhouse. I want to play with papa and the dollhouse.”
“Hmm.” Play. A boardgame, maybe? But it doesn’t feel particularly romantic.
And I have a hard time picturing Logan sitting down to play anything as tame as that.
But then, what can I possibly get him? Everything he needs, he buys himself.
What do guys want in general? My dad loves his cigars, but Logan doesn’t smoke.
A watch? But you can’t buy a nice watch for eighty dollars, can you?
Besides, I doubt I could find a luxury watch in the small town by our house.
By the time we reach town, I’m feeling pretty desperate. I spent two years worrying over saving money for Logan’s present, but I didn’t spend a single second thinking about what I would buy once I’d earned that money.
“Look!” calls out Aurora, pointing to a storefront. “Look at that funny dress!”
She stares at a dress with a pattern of flamingos wearing sunglasses, but right beside it is a nice dress shirt. I guess a shirt is a pretty good present… isn’t it?
I’m running out of time, because it took almost thirty minutes to walk to town—I hadn’t calculated how long it would be with Aurora’s little feet—and his phone call likely won’t last much more than an hour.
So I hurry into the store and buy the shirt from the saleslady.
She must be new around here. Seeing as this is the only town we ever go to, I know pretty much everyone by name.
She takes her time to wrap it in tissue paper and slip it into a bag with the name of the store marked out in gold foil letters. By the time she holds it out for me, I’m getting really antsy.
“Okay, thank you—” I begin, before abruptly interrupting myself when I feel someone behind me.
“Papa!” squeals Aurora.
Damn it. So much for the secret.
She jumps into Logan’s arms. I turn to him with a bashful expression, then freeze when I take in his pale, neutral face.
“I’ll take that, thank you,” he says curtly, grabbing the bag from the saleslady’s hand. “How much do I owe you?”
“Uhm… uh…” His furious expression has her flustered. “The lady just paid.”
“I see.”
His voice is so cold that it makes me shiver.
He adjusts Aurora so that he’s carrying her on his hip and holding the bag with the same arm that’s around her waist. His free hand grips my wrist, and he tugs me out of the store in the same violent way he once used.
It’s been a while since he’s been this brusque.
“Logan,” I begin nervously, “you seem a little upset, and I can explain… This was supposed to be…”
“I don’t want to hear your voice right now, Lia,” he says, his tone just as neutral as his face.
He opens the car door for me, and I sit down, not daring to protest. It’s been a very long time since he’s been angry, really angry at me, and I’d forgotten how terrifying he can be. I don’t protest when he buckles me in, before slamming the door and buckling Aurora into her seat.
“Papa, we have a present for you! Happy birthday, papa!”
He’s all smiles as he kisses her curls. “Thank you, sweetie.”
“It’s a surprise, shh! Don’t tell mama I said. Surprise!”
“It certainly is,” he agrees, then settles behind the steering wheel.
“Logan, I can explain…” I try again.
He turns to me slowly, and I quake under his cold gaze. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Lia.”
Right. Fuck.