Page 87 of Graciously His

“Sure was, though I reckon my issues were more mental than physical. I didn’t even know which of my emotions were real and which were just my motherfucker of a thyroid being a dick again.”

That makes me laugh so loud that I startle my lamb. I comfort her with another kiss and hold her for a while afterwards, thinking over what Mihi said.

“Do you still have bad days?”

“Everyone has bad days,” she says. “But we’ve got to sort the bad of one kind from the bad of another. Sorting of all sorts—sorted?”

I laugh at her wordplay, as I’m sure Mihi meant me to, some of my tension melting away.

We spend the next few hours mucking out sheds and checking on the rest of the flock. It's hard work that would have left me with aching joints and a foggy brain a few weeks ago, but all I feel now is satisfied with a job well done.

We’re heading back to her house for a quick bite when my phone rings. An unknown number shows on the screen. I answer right away, thinking it’ll be an automated message with some lab results Eileen requisitioned. I expect to hear a robotic voice on the other end, and I feel myself go still when there’s an indrawn gasp.

It’s Mother. I know it even before she speaks.

“Graciously?” she says, then continues without waiting for an answer. “I know it’s you, lovey. I need you to listen before he blocks this number, too! Are you listening, Graciously?”

“Yes,” I whisper, clutching the phone to my ear. Acid ignites in my belly, horribly familiar, like magma sliding along well-worn grooves.

“I need you to know that you’re not alone up there, even though that man is keeping you from me. It’s not your fault, Graciously. I’ve been researching everything, and I’ve found out that his plans go right back to the start—even before the start.”

“The start?” I close my eyes and speak through the tension in my jaw. “Mother, I don’t understand what you’re—”

“I have proof of what he's done—I sent everything up to the office, care of Nick’s name. I doubt that disgusting man would have the nerve to open something addressed to the brother he killed, so you can go collect it yourself.”

“K-killed,” I stutter, unable to process what she’s saying. The paddock around me is verdant with spring, and it all goes grey when I realise what Mother is telling me. “What do you mean, ‘the brother he killed’? Are you talking about Nate?”

“Yes! Who else? He murdered Nick, then stole you away before I could even—”

Two things happen at once: Mihi puts a strong hand on my shoulder and my mother’s voice cuts off mid-sentence. My phone vibrates and I stare at the screen. It flickers then goes blank.

“Grace,” Mihi is saying, her voice low and concerned, “Christ, you’ve gone pale. Do you need me to take you home? Or I can call Hadley to—”

“No.” My voice is vehement with panic. I turn into Mihi’s embrace, hugging her close. I breathe through my body’s reaction to hearing Mother’s voice for the first time in over a month.

“Okay,” Mihi continues, “no calling Hadley, got it.”

“He must have turned it off remotely,” I say, pulling back as my phone vibrates once more, restarting on its own. “He cut her off on purpose. He knew she—”

“Woah, slow down. Let’s get you into the house, all right?”

“No!” I stare at my phone, watching apps appear on the home screen. “I need to get back. I need to ask him—”

“Grace, let’s get you a glass of water and sit down a minute, eh? Hadley’ll never let you come back here if I send you home in this state.”

Her words make it through my fog of panic, and I allow Mihi to guide me into her house. The familiar space brings me back to something like calm. She nudges a glass of water into my hands and I sip it, swallowing around the lump in my throat.

I finally meet her eyes.

“You with me?” she asks, regarding me closely.

“Yes.”

I take another sip, actively reminding myself of the lambs in their safe little den, of Eileen’s jubilant words at our appointment, of Nate’s face when he softens infinitesimally. The acidic heat in my belly subsides, the panic diluted by water and Mihi’s presence. My attention drifts to the front-facing windows.

“I should go home before you get tangled up in this, Mihi.” But I stay where I am, my body refusing to heed my own words.

“You don’t have to go home if you don’t want to. Not now. Not later. You can stay right here, Gracie-girl, if that’s what you need.”