Chapter 7 #2
Sadness that shouldn’t exist in human nature wraps itself around her shoulders as she shakes her head. “No, not you.”
“What do you mean, not me?” I say sharply, but shockingly, she doesn’t so much as flinch.
“It was much more painful for you to witness my punishments. Terra always found what hurt us the most and then exploited it. For you, it was me. I was always your weakness.”
Clover.
She was my weakness.
My mind is in chaos as I follow her back toward her house. Wrecks, apparently satisfied with his territorial claims over R&R Road, flops down in the grass on her front lawn, and she drops to her knees to rub his belly while I scan our surroundings.
Clover touches my hand, startling me out of my assessment as energy weaves through my veins, welding us together.
I don’t startle. I’m observant. Regimented. Controlled.
But it’s all unraveling faster than my memories with this woman at my side.
The one person I can’t afford to let down. Again.
“I’m sorry, Clover. For whatever you went through, I’m so sorry.”
There’s sadness in her smile. “It was never your fault, Valen. I’ve always known that, and you should too.”
She doesn’t hold me responsible for my mother’s actions, even if she should.
The knowledge doesn’t ease the guilt I’ve lived with though—the innate understanding that I’ve done…something. I think it might have always been my fault. I just don’t remember why.
“Would you—” But I hesitate. Can I really ask more of this woman?
“What?” She’s so damn hopeful. How can anyone live with such fear but still have so much hope?
“Would you help me understand them? The entries? I can’t piece them together.”
Clover studies me for a long moment. “Okay. But inside, and with chocolate.”
“Chocolate.” I chuckle.
“Definitely. Chocolate makes everything better.”
I follow her with a lightness to my step I haven’t felt before. Shouldn’t feel now with the threats coming at us from all sides. But I can’t deny that it’s there. That beautiful innocence is forged deep inside Clover, and all I want to do is fall into it.
Her hope is dangerously infectious.
We settle at her kitchen table, the journal spread open between us like an artifact from someone else’s life.
The life I don’t recall.
“This one,” I say, pointing to a page I’ve dog-eared. “I wrote, Terra had a party today. Honeybee attended. She was a star.” I look up. “What kind of party?”
I watch with trepidation as Clover’s entire body locks up until she’s so still, I want to put a finger under her nose just to ensure she’s breathing. “You don’t want to know.”
My insides clench and swirl, a battle raging with no available winner. “I do though, Clover. I have to know.”
“Valen—”
“Please.” I lean forward. “Help me understand what happened to us. What she did.”
Clover exhales a breath that feels fragile against my skin, then she lowers her gaze while twisting her fingers together in her lap.
“A ‘party’ was when Terra would parade…certain children in front of visitors. Potential…donors. People she was recruiting to join or invest in her…mission.” Her voice is flat.
Detached. She’s no longer here with me but lost in the past. “She’d dress us up.
Make us perform scripture. Demonstrate our obedience. ”
“Obedience—” My stomach heaves but I swallow it down.
Be fucking stronger than this.
“It was how she proved her complete control.” Clover’s fingers tighten and turn white. “Punishments.” She’s breathing heavily as though she’s about to pass out again. “We endured them while visitors observed to demonstrate how well we’d been trained.”
Oh.
Oh God.
“And you had to—”
“I was always chosen.” She tugs on her already threadbare sweater. “Terra said I had the right…pedigree. I looked innocent. Fragile. The perfect specimen to show how she could break someone and rebuild them in her image.”
I’m going to be sick.
“That’s why you wrote in code,” she continues. “If Terra found this, if she knew you were documenting what she’d done.” She finally meets my eyes. “She used our love for each other to punish us both because we never loved her the way she demanded.”
I flip through more pages, needing information and fearing it in equal measure. “Here.” I jam my finger into the paper. “I wrote, HB was in the garden all day, so I brought her food. Why were you in the garden all day, and why does it feel like it means something…else?”
“That was a punishment. Usually for a smaller infraction like asking a question, looking at someone I wasn’t supposed to look at, or breathing wrong.
Not calling her Mother was the most common for me though.
” She laughs, and it’s a bitter sound. “Terra would make me kneel on stones for hours in the sun with no water or shade. You’d sneak me food when you could get by the guards and spray me with sunscreen when you could get it from Miriam. ”
Acid sits rancid at the back of my throat, but I press on.
“What about this? Told Honeybee about the stars. She said I was her favorite light.” I look up and catch her watery gaze. This expression is different. “That’s not a code, is it? It’s just—”
“Sweet.” Clover smiles at me, small and sad. “When things were bad, you’d tell me stories about the stars. About your aunt Vivi, your cousins, about the big world outside my cage.” She leans closer to trace a finger over the page.
Her shoulder presses to mine, her hair brushing my jaw. She smells like flowers and warmth, and my body fires to life in a way that has nothing to do with rage or history.
“You made me believe there was something out here for me,” she says. “You told me we’d escape, and you taught me to always have hope.”
“Did Aunt Vivi know?” I ask. “What was happening there? Did I tell her about all of this? Did she read this?”
“I never met her, but I’m sure she suspected.
She was going to help us escape, after all.
For years, you kept the truth hidden because Terra showed you early on exactly what she would do to me if you ever told anyone, and no matter how hard I pressed, you wouldn’t risk it.
Then…things changed. Terra became bolder, more unhinged. ”
A near-silent sob slips past her lips. “When we were young, she tried so hard to convince you that I wasn’t real. When that didn’t work, she tried to use our friendship to her advantage.”
She plucks her bottom lip with her thumb and forefinger before interlacing them again.
“Things got worse the older we got. When you had to leave at the end of the summer, Terra would lock me in…that room. I think Terra’s escalation of events is why you finally confided in Vivi—at least some of it.
If you’d told her the complete truth, you probably never would have returned to ROS in the first place.
But I do think she was gathering evidence, legal—”
Her hands shake no matter how tightly she twists them together. It’s like an out-of-body experience as I reach over and place my hand on top of hers.
Calm.
It happens on contact, seeping bone-deep, and when she stops fidgeting, I know she feels it too, so I keep my hand there, and she continues.
“Before your father passed away, he had custody of you, but Terra held something over him, and I think over Vivi too. She always seemed to have this strange power over them.”
“So Vivi had me document what was happening?”
“As best you could, yes. Until that last summer, I don’t believe Vivi had any idea how dangerous it was though. Especially as we got older and you pushed back with Terra more often.”
Clover points to another entry. I didn’t get to see HB today.
She was meditating, but I did see eight bees.
“That meant I was locked in the punishment room for eight days reciting Terra’s scripture.
Typically, she’d make other kids watch.” Clover’s sad eyes find mine.
“I was her cautionary tale, and her vision for the future.”
“Eight days.” Rage burns hotly in my chest. “You were a child.”
“We both were.” She holds tight to my fingers as though they’re her lifeline.
“You did everything you could, Valen. You kept me as safe as I could be in that place.” Her voice cracks.
“Vivi finally had a way to get us out, but things changed, and we rushed it. I don’t know what went wrong, but you did save me, that much I know. ”
“And then I forgot you.”
“Because someone hurt you, probably for helping me escape.” Her fingers tap a steady beat against my palm. “That wasn’t your fault.”
We sit, hands entwined, with fourteen years of pain and love and loss healing in this barely there touch.
“What would happen…when I wasn’t there?” I’m so scared of the answer that the question comes out on a wave of emotion.
Clover’s face shutters, boards closing the windows to her soul.
“When you were gone, I lived in darkness. I was what ensured you, and your money, came back for holidays and every summer vacation. Especially after your father passed away. She used me to get to you and vice versa. As long as you returned, so did your family’s money. ”
She tugs her hand free from mine. Releasing her rips a piece of my heart in two, and I rub the ache where the phantom pain twists and turns.
“I think that’s the deal Vivi made to get custody of you.
I know she was paying Terra to keep you with her most of the time.
Terra hated that she didn’t have control of your finances.
And as you got older, her only chance of controlling you, at getting to you at all, was through me.
I—I begged you to stay away, Valen, to keep you safe. But you always returned.”
“The last entry,” I say, opening to the final journal. “In two days, the queen will choose her king. All the honey they’ve made will be sweet. What happened here?”