Page 62 of Insidious

And even if I do, I don’t know if it changes anything.

Amelie shifts softly in the crib.

A small sigh. A reminder of what I might lose.

I close my eyes for a second, then open them.

“Fine,” I say. “You should sleep on the pull-out.”

The battlelines are drawn. This is not forgiveness.

It is not trust.

It is not even acceptance.

A temporary ceasefire is all I have to give.

Chapter 17

Luna

I push through the intricate layers of sleep I’ve somehow fallen into. Vague terrifying impressions of strangers taking Amelie away linger. For a few seconds, I just lie here, staring at the pale wash of morning light on the ceiling, trying to understand what feels … off.

Then it hits me.

I slept … through the night.

There is none of the bone-deep exhaustion that never used to let go before … everything happened.

After the conversation with Isaac yesterday, his eyes followed me as I got my pyjamas and shut the bathroom door behind me. He was gone by the time I came out, and Amelie was still asleep.

I close my eyes again, trying to piece together the night.

Fragments come back.

The bedroom door opening softly.

A gentle hand in my hair.

A familiar voice, rough around the edges, whispering something I can’t remember.

The quilt being tucked around me, especially around my cold feet.

And then … the slow hum of a lullaby. Deep like a vibration in my bones, lulling me back to sleep.

Isaac must have woken in the night and fed her because I slept like the dead. His side of the bed is untouched. Despite how things have been between us, it is unsettling not to have him sleeping beside me. Old habits.

I need to remember she is as much his as she is mine. And I can’t stop the inevitable trickle of guilt before I brush it away.

I push myself upright, wincing slightly at the pull in my back, and swing my legs off the bed. The room feels warmer than it should for this time of morning.

Of course it does. The warmth from the radiator tells me someone has turned the heating up.

My eyes move straight to the crib.

Empty.

There’s a quick spike of panic, but it fades just as fast.