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“Mummy’s fine, sweetheart,” Hale reassures, sensing that I’m hanging together by a thread. “She’s just not feeling very well.”
“I don’t want to see Daddy anymore,” Ivy says. “I don’t like his house. It’s scary.”
My chest aches. I’d give anything so she didn’t have to return and see that monster again. Every second she’s away from us feels like a knife slowly twisting in my gut, but I have no choice. The Killers Club made sure of that. The only control I have over the situation is ensuring she’s constantly supervised and never left alone during a visit. Maria is always around, and we’ve paid her—unbeknownst to the club—to call if we’re needed. During their visits, we’re never more than a few minutes away in case we have to act.
“Why don’t I put on your favourite film, huh?” Hale suggests, kneeling before her and bopping her nose with his finger playfully.
“Your breath smells bad.” She wrinkles her nose. “Coffee is yucky.”
“Do you think so?” He chuckles, then exhales in her face like a dragon. “The coffee monster is coming to get you!”
She squeals in delight as he tickles her. Watching them makes my heart feel so full it could burst. I love my little family more than anything. I sit down, stealing the rest of Hale’s coffee, as they race around the island.
Hale’s a wonderful man. The best. Despite our tumultuous start, he’s become our rock. He was there throughout my pregnancy and Ivy’s birth, accepting her as his own from the start. We’ll never be able to have children of our own, and he protects her fiercely.
Finally, Ivy stops and keels over, gasping for air while the coffee monster glares at me, realising I’ve finished his drink.
I bat my eyelashes innocently. “What?”
“The coffee monster will deal with you later,” he warns before taking Ivy’s hand. “Come on, let’s put the film on. I’ll make popcorn as a treat. A mix of sweet and salty, just how you like it.”
Ivy pouts. She’s much more like my sister than she knows. My stomach heaves, and the coffee threatens to make a reappearance. Ivy’s alive. I still can’t wrap my head around it…
“I don’t want to watch a princess movie again,” Ivy says. “I want to watch something way more cool than that.”
“What’s more cool than a princess who freezes things?” he asks.
Ivy considers this for a second, then relents. “True, but I’ll only watch if you wear a tiara and watch it with me, Daddy Hale. You sing the songs the best.”
He does. Watching my muscular monster sing children’s songs in a high-pitched voice has to be one of the most hilarious and adorable things I’ve ever seen.
“Okay, fine,” he agrees begrudgingly, although we both know he secretly loves it. He’ll do anything for our little girl. He squeezes my shoulder as he passes. “I’ll be right back, babe.”
I nod, grateful that he’s strong enough for the both of us. We haven’t had time to process what we saw earlier and need to talk about it.
While Hale settles Ivy in the other room, his singing and Ivy’s giggles float through the house. She’s so innocent and doesn’t realise how special she is. After I found out I was pregnant, I convinced myself I wouldn’t be able to love her. I spent months tossing and turning while my stomach grew, worried that we wouldn’t be able to connect because of how she was created. Hale reassured me that it would be okay, and he was right.
My entire world clicked into place in an instant as soon as Hale passed the pink, wriggling bundle of joy into my arms. Although I lost Ivy, I felt my daughter was her way of coming back to me, and I was going to keep her safe in a way I couldn’t with my sister.
For years, I blamed myself for Ivy’s death. While she lived with that monster, she tried to hide what was going on between them: the abuse, the arguments, the control. My sister hid her emotions well, but I knew her best. I knew what he was doing and how much she was suffering, yet I only confronted her about it once after seeing bruises on her arms. She didn’t know that I came to visit one night and heard her screaming at him to stop from outside or how, on another occasion, Ivy didn’t hang up the phone when she thought she did, and I heard Spencer hurling insults at her. I should have done more to help, but Ivy distanced herself whenever I tried to broach the subject. I thought addressing it would push her further into his grasp, and I vowed to be there when she was ready to leave. But, when she did, it wasn’t enough…
The doorbell ringing turns my blood cold as I hear a key turning in the lock. This is our home, but Stephanie and Alaric still have keys—as they do to every Killers Club-owned house. I’ve never minded when they casually dropped by unannounced before, viewing them as part of our extended family. Now it was different.
“Auntie Stephie!” Ivy calls. Her little feet patter across the hall. I clench my fists as I follow, just in time to watch Stephanie pick her up and twirl her around.
Hale catches my eye and shakes his head. You need to stay calm.
I take a deep breath and relax my posture.
“You need to come and watch the film with me,” Ivy says, tugging on Stephanie’s hand when she’s back on the floor. “We’re almost at the best part, and Daddy Hale is going to make popcorn!”
“That sounds amazing,” Stephanie gushes, then pretends to be sad. “But I can’t stay for long this time. I just need a quick chat with your mum.”
“But…” Ivy’s bottom lip quivers. She’s too trusting, oblivious to how Stephanie is a brutal murderer, a family destroyer, and the reason why I have to regularly put her in harm’s way.
“Stephanie can stay for longer next time,” I promise. “We’ll arrange it.”
“Fine.” Ivy sniffs, then points at Stephanie. “You better pinkie promise.”
