Chapter Four
CHAPTER
FOUR
The next morning, Scarlett awoke to pink and yellow light streaming in through her window, along with flickers from the shimmering water of the Sapphire Canal. Her body and her soul were raw.
How long was I asleep?
After an awful car ride home from the hospital, she’d stumbled into her grandmother’s arms and been put to bed. Beni. The thought of her brother was enough to make her sit up. He’d been in his room when she got home, and she hadn’t spoken to him since…
Scarlett put her face in her hands. She kept seeing the hole in her dad’s head in her mind.
Other memories intruded, bringing white-hot pain: a quiet dinner they’d enjoyed, just the two of them; the time he’d given her ten of his favorite novels for her sixteenth birthday; the day he’d taken her to visit the University of Soleil.
Arguments they’d had. Times she’d said too much, or things she’d left unsaid.
Shuddering, she forced herself to take several deep breaths.
She had to be strong. Falling apart wasn’t an option.
Once the jagged feelings and memories were below the surface, she stood and took a few steps toward her dressing room, rubbing her eyes as she went. She needed to get dressed and check on Beni. He was her responsibility now that their father was gone.
The dressing-room door opened from the inside, and her grandmother Manon appeared, her eyebrows knitted tightly in concern.
“Oh, Scarlett, you’re awake. Can I do anything for you?
” Manon was already wearing a long-sleeve black dress for mourning, and her hair, the palest blonde with streaks of gray, was in an elegant bun.
She looked nowhere near as wrecked as Scarlett felt, but then Jules wasn’t her son—Manon was Scarlett’s maternal grandmother.
Scarlett’s face crumpled as it hit her she was now an orphan. She opened her arms. Her grandmother came closer and squeezed her tightly, rubbing her back as she held her. Scarlett breathed in the familiar smell of her peony-scented perfume as hot tears fell down her cheeks.
A minute or so passed, and then Scarlett pulled away.
Her grandmother’s face was pinched with concern. “Oh, my darling girl. Let me do something for you. Anything. I was about to ask Martin for some coffee. Would you like some?”
Scarlett sniffed and pulled back. “I want to check on Beni.” Her throat was thick, like she had a cold.
“He spent most of yesterday in bed, same as you. How about I check on him while I’m down there, and if he’s awake, I’ll see if he wants to come up?”
“Thank you.”
“Dark roast coffee? Can I bring you breakfast?”
The image of her dad that was burned into Scarlett’s brain appeared in her mind’s eye again.
“I’m worried I’ll puke if I try to eat.”
Manon clasped her hand. “I understand, but you won’t have much in your stomach to heave up, and food might make you feel better. I’ll bring a tray so you can try to take a few bites.”
Scarlett nodded. Her grandmother was probably right.
“Brayden and Lachlan are in the mirror, so don’t go in there unless you want to say hello.”
“Already? It’s early.”
“There’s some disturbing news out about Sigur Vieur and Evory, and they want to discuss it with me after I’ve finished checking on you and Beni.”
Sigur Vieur, the country she’d been planning to go to first on her embassy tour. What an idyllic alternate reality she’d been living in where her father was still alive and her biggest concern was convincing him to let her leave.
“Oh.” It was all she could manage without risking tears.
Manon gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. “I’ll be back soon.”
Her grandmother closed the bedroom door behind her.
Scarlett stood still in front of the door. She could handle seeing Brayden like this, but it would be awkward having Lachlan Maddox, his dad, see her in her current state. She’d known Lachlan for a long time, because he often talked to Manon through the mirror, but he was her father’s age.
Still, the draw to see Brayden was strong whether his father was there or not, so she crossed her arms over her chest to hold herself together and strode through the dressing-room door.
Scarlett lifted her gaze to the huge gilt mirror.
She’d stood before Brayden a thousand times, but never like this.
Brayden rose to his feet when she came in. She’d never seen him look so serious. The hint of a smile she often saw on his lips was absent. As he took in her expression, worry was all she could see.
“Scarlett. I’m so sorry about your father. I wish I were there. I wish there was something I could do.” His voice was deep and warm, but it barely reached her.
Lachlan stood too but remained behind his large mahogany desk.
His dark eyes bore into her from a distance.
“Yes, we’re so sorry for your loss, Scarlett.
It’s a huge loss for the world, but most of all for you.
” Like Manon, he was already pristinely groomed and ready for the day in his freshly pressed Clair de Lune military uniform.
His salt-and-pepper hair was parted on one side and combed. It was a normal day for him.
Scarlett swallowed thickly. “Thank you.” She looked up at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry.
Brayden came close enough for her to see the depth of concern in his warm brown eyes, but never close enough to touch. She put her hand on the mirror anyway, and he put his hand up against it. She could almost imagine his body heat coming through the glass.
“I’d come stay with you if I could. I hate that I can’t be there for you in person,” he whispered.
“I know. I wish you could be here too,” she said, tears spilling over onto her cheeks.
If only. She stared at him, sure there was raw pain radiating out of her and not caring, because he was her closest friend.
The only one she didn’t have to censor herself for.
Who never expected her to behave a certain way. He cared for her just as she was.
Of all the times she’d wished Brayden could come through the mirror into her dressing room, this moment topped them all.
She wanted him to hold her. But it was impossible for him to be there, just like it always had been.
She’d have to continue to live without him.
The trip to Clair de Lune would be impossible now.
She dropped her hand as she heard two sets of footsteps coming into her bedroom.
“Scarlett, my love? Beni is here, and we have breakfast!”
This was her grandmother’s warning to get out before Beni came inside and caught her using the magic mirror.
“I have to go,” she told Brayden in a low voice.
“I’ll be around later if you need me.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
She hurried away from the mirror.
In her room she found Beni. His angular face was her father’s replica—although, unlike Jules Heroux, her brother wore his heart on his sleeve.
His green eyes were puffy from crying, and his narrow shoulders were hunched.
Her heart, already broken, split again at the sight of him.
She pulled him into her arms, and they held each other and sobbed.
Three days passed in a blur of condolences, sleepless nights, and tears.
Scarlett sat in the armchair in front of the mirror.
It was nearly midnight, and her father’s funeral was tomorrow morning.
The moments she tried to fall asleep were the hardest, so she was resisting going to bed even though it was late.
Brayden was on the other side of the glass, like he had been every night since her dad’s death.
He’d stayed up with her while she sat in her armchair alternating between talking, crying, and dozing.
Being near him helped. She could lean on him without having to be strong for him like she did with Beni.
On Brayden’s side, Lachlan’s couch was as close to the mirror as it could be. Brayden lay there staring at her, his face half in shadow, lit only by the dying fire. On her side of the mirror, a dim lamp on a nearby table fended off the darkness.
“What do you think it’s like when we die? Do you think some part of us lives on?” she asked. The question came out of nowhere. They’d been sitting in comfortable silence for several minutes.
He shifted, adjusting the pillow resting under his head. “I believe we’re more than some meat on a bunch of bones, so yes, I think some part of us lives on.”
“Really?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting.
“Yeah. I mean, how could we not be? It would be ridiculous if all this were meaningless. If death was it. Art, music, my friends, my brother, you—all of it’s too wonderful to be random.”
His words brought her some relief, and she smiled softly.
Her father had dismissed any belief in the unseen as foolish.
Facing his death would be much harder if she chose to believe it was the true end of him.
But she still thought his spirit was out there, and leaning into that made her feel better.
It was still painful, but the pain wasn’t as brutal.
Knowing Brayden believed the same brought her even more comfort.
“I agree.” Scarlett’s throat was thick. “The world we’ve built, the love we have, the dreams we dream… it makes more sense to me that the souls who create such beautiful things live on somehow. I think we’ll be together again.” Her voice broke.
Brayden reached out and touched the glass. He reached for her often when she broke down, even though the glass was always there. “You’ll see your father again. He’ll be waiting for you when you die. Just like our mams will be waiting for us.”