Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eden
Numb. That was the only word to describe my state of mind in the days that followed. It was like cold had seeped through the cracks until it filled up all the emptiness with frosty, unfeeling ice.
I should have been grateful for the steady stream of customers, but instead, I was annoyed every time I was interrupted from my research into my brother’s life.
Not that I’d found much.
His bio on the church’s website included that same family photo and pitifully little information.
He’d gotten married a month after I left to a woman named Mary Billings—a woman I’d never met, which suggested a quick courtship.
Had they even chosen each other, or had the marriage been arranged for them?
Arranged like they’d hoped to do for me, to find some suitable man who didn’t mind a young bride who needed a firm hand.
The contents of my stomach roiled and seethed.
Their daughter Eve was born less than a year later, making her almost thirteen now.
I thought about Carter, his cheeky grins and fun-loving attitude, and wondered what my niece was like outside of the shadow I’d been raised under.
Was she the perfect daughter, as my parents hoped I would be?
Did she have hobbies, a life outside the church?
At three years older than me, Isaiah had been treated like a full-on adult well before I finished high school and got the hell out of Dodge.
I knew, in a vague sense, that he and my father spent a lot of time at the church, but I hadn’t realized Isaiah planned to devote his life to it.
Our relationship had been stiff and awkward for as long as I could remember, though now it struck me that when our parents punished me for whatever wrong I’d done—real or imagined—Isaiah always responded the same way.
“I’ll pray for you, Eden.”
When the next short lull in shoppers came, I opened up the photo of my brother’s little family and stared hard at the image, as though it could give me answers. None came, but I thought back to the phone conversation we’d had a few years back.
Our only conversation since I walked out the door of our childhood home fourteen years ago.
A decade had passed and still I recognized his voice the minute I answered the phone.
“Eden, it’s time to come home. Forgiveness is yours. This has gone on long enough, don’t you think?”
As shocked as I was bitter, I’d replied, “Yes, brother, I think the shame and subjugation of women has been going on far too long. Thanks for the offer, but I won’t be coming back. Not now, not ever.”
“I’ll pray for you, Eden.”
Then he’d sighed—not like he was disappointed in me, not an echo of the countless sighs I’d inspired in my parents throughout my life, but like he was disappointed in himself.
How had I forgotten that? What did it mean?
The internet held no further information for me to find, not about Isaiah or about his little family, except that he was still listed as the minister at the Church of Eternal Light in Binghamton.
For half a second, I debated calling him, then shook the urge away with a shudder. I wasn’t willing to embroil myself with anyone from that church, not even my brother, without good reason.
And I still wasn’t convinced my brother himself would seek to hurt me. He hadn’t helped when I was constantly in trouble as a child, but he had never ratted me out, either.
Even when he’d had plenty of opportunities to do so.
A pair of giggling twenty-somethings entered the store and I forced a bright smile even as I stuck my bandaged hand in my pocket behind the counter. Detective Hanson was right—I should leave the investigation to them.
I just…wasn’t sure I could.
With the flow of customers never truly dying off, I lost all track of time, each day blending into the next. In my free moments, I continued scouring the internet for information about Isaiah, Mary, and Eve, but there was no trace of them on social media.
It was like they were ghosts.
Addie hovered around the store as much as possible, during her work hours and beyond. It was obvious she’d been tasked with making sure I was okay, since Milo hadn’t even tried to cross that line I’d drawn in the sand.
A line I wished he’d just swept away, but this distance between us was on me, not him.
“When do your stitches come out?” she asked as she unnecessarily refolded a pajama set beside me.
“Soon. What day is it?”
“Tuesday,” Addie answered.
My entire body turned to ice.
“Eden, it’s okay. Olivia’s taking a couple weeks off from gaming, at least until Milo’s new window goes in. I think that’s happening this week. Breathe, babe.”
I didn’t realize I wasn’t until I heard the harsh wheezing coming through my own lips. Addie made some cheery excuse to a customer as she guided me into the break room and nudged me down into a chair. Once I was seated, she crouched in front of me and clasped my hands.
“Breathe,” she urged again, pressing our joined hands to my chest. “I want to feel your lungs filling with air. You can do it.”
With effort, I managed to suck in enough oxygen to lift our hands. Addie murmured soothingly until each breath came more easily than the last.
“Is Milo okay?” I whispered.
“Oh, honey. He’s fine, just worried about you. I wish you’d talk to him.”
I nodded, but we both knew I was lying. Eventually, Addie had to leave for her shift at the crisis center. Even though I promised her I was fine on my own, now that the initial panic had subsided, this past week had taught me that I wouldn’t be alone for long.
If Addie wasn’t at the shop, then Olivia found excuses to drop by, along with Monique, Libby, or Terry. It was like a not-at-all covert girl squad had taken responsibility for my wellbeing.
It didn’t feel all that great, honestly, not in these circumstances.
They were worried about me and I appreciated that, but instead of working through my thoughts or sorting out my emotions, I spent all of my time reassuring them I was fine.
Every one of them recognized it for the lie that it was, but if I didn’t understand what was happening in my head, how was I supposed to explain it to them?
Then again, maybe I didn’t need to. When Libby took out the stitches a few days later, she took one look at my face and I knew she saw far deeper than I wanted anyone to dig at that moment.
“Busy place today,” I said lightly, hoping I could direct the conversation away from myself long enough to get through this appointment.
“Practically every day, lately. I’m hoping to bring on another doctor in the next few months. It’s getting to be too much to handle on my own.”
“Good for business, but maybe not for stress levels.”
“Speaking of stress levels, how’ve you been feeling?” she asked, head bent over my hand as she snipped the loose threads.
Shit. I walked right into that one.
I kept my gaze averted, both from what she was doing and from her keen eyes. “Fine.”
A disbelieving snort snapped my attention back to her face. “Eden, I’ve been a member of the Davies family for a long time, and an unofficial member even longer. I know what stubborn looks like from every possible angle.”
“I’m not stubborn,” I protested.
“You know,” she mused, somehow changing the subject and throwing me completely off my defensive position in the same breath, “the mind is a very powerful thing. Some people are lucky enough to feel their feelings and recognize each one for what it is so they can process and move forward.”
I stared at the curls bunched at the back of her head. “What about the unlucky ones?”
Without glancing up, she said, “Sometimes, we can’t really tell what we’re feeling. We go numb, we shut down. We push people away in an attempt at self-preservation.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I couldn’t respond, not without setting them free.
“There we go, all done. It’s healing nicely, but it’ll take some time for the scar to fade.
Here, I want you to take this.” She reached into her pocket and handed me a folded pamphlet with three names and phone numbers on it.
“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who’s not tangled up in a situation. I think you should consider it.”
As much as I didn’t want to consider it, I took the card, offered the same wooden smile I’d been giving everyone for over a week, and went back to the store.
In the end, Milo’s mom was the one who broke through. I was in one of the back rooms on Saturday, sorting through some Valentine’s Day stock that had just come in, when Addie sent Terry to join me.
“Hey there, what’s all this?”
On my knees in a circle of red and pink, lavender and silver, I gave her the first real smile that had graced my lips in almost a week. “Getting in the holiday spirit. I’ll put this stuff out soon, but I wanted to look through it all now so I can design a window display.”
“You do all of that yourself?” Terry asked as she eased herself down to the floor at my side.
“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite aspects of owning the store, actually. It gives me a chance to showcase my favorite pieces and get creative. I love this one,” I said, holding up a pink satin robe with silver hearts embroidered along the edges.
“Hoo-ey, that’s lovely,” she breathed. “I haven’t bought lingerie in almost a decade. Any chance you’d give family some early access?”
Family. I rocked back slightly, staring down at the embroidery that had gone blurry as tears hit my eyes.
“Eden, sweetheart, look at me,” Terry whispered.
I lifted my head as a tear rolled down my cheek. Terry, who was everything my mother was not—soft and maternal, warm and welcoming—wrapped her arms around me. With one hand, she guided my head to her shoulder and cooed gently in my ear.
“There, now, let it out, darling girl.”
These were not the wracking sobs I’d let consume me that night when I walked away from Milo, just a silent stream of tears that dampened my cheeks as well as Terry’s shirt. When I tried to pull away, her gentle grip kept me clasped against her.