Page 69 of Butterfly 6, Phase 1

The words snatched his attention away from his daughter.

“Is that a concern?” he asked.

“A bit, but it’s not uncommon with this type of brain injury,” Mara said. “She seems a little volatile with me sometimes. Seeing things that’s not there. Irrational fears. Paranoia. Sometimes, even recalling things that didn’t happen. She said you…” Mara paused.

“She seems to think or suspect that you’re not who you say you are,” Mara finished.

Ethic’s blood ran cold.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s a completely irrational thought, but she’s just exhibiting symptoms that are concerning. Yes, her legs are working, but she’s not well, Ethic. Sometimes I worry about her with your daughter. I found her mumbling something about teaching you a lesson. She was just staring at True, leaning over her and caressing her cheek, but she kept mumbling that she wanted to show Daddy how it feels to lose a heartbeat. Does that make sense to you?”

Ethic couldn’t identify where the air was in the room.

“When was this, Mara?” Ethic asked.

“This morning,” Mara answered. “But I’ve noticed little things since she’s come home. Postpartum is real. Depression and psychosis are real after having a baby. She’s been through a lot of trauma. I just want you to be aware.”

“Received, Mara. Thank you,” he said. “You mind giving me and my princess a little time?”

“Of course. I’ll go get dinner started and check on all that screaming your son and grandson are doing.”

He nodded, and once he was alone, he pulled True to his chest.

Her eyes were like pools of the purest innocence. She was so calm in his embrace. She was tiny and warm, and he could feel her sweet breath against his neck. He sat in the nursery, alone, fearing the conversation happening rooms away and reflecting on the one he had just had with Mara.

They had felt like a warning, an omen. Mara had made Ethic feel like Alani may not be mentally sound enough to care for their daughter. Like she was a danger to True, and that soured on his gut. The room was still, but his soul was busy. His mind was a war zone, and several battles were being fought simultaneously. Yara. Alani. Kenzie. Morgan. A massacre of guilt and unwanted memories tore him apart until he could barely distinguish reality from his fears of what hadn’t occurred yet. Anxiety. He had adopted it, and it was crippling. Everything about True reminded him of the daughter they’d lost. She wasn’t his, but she should have been. Kenzie should have been under his roof, running around, contributing to the noise. Instead, she was in the ground. The brutality of that fact never softened. And if Alani had paranoia about him surrounding her daughter, he couldn’t say shit because her paranoia was merely sirens telling her to be alarmed. He couldn’t convict her of instability when he was the monster hiding in plain sight.

Mara had indicated that Alani could be harmful to his children, not once, but twice. Mara was notating behavior that was concerning. Alani was losing herself, spiraling under the pressure of recovery and grief. The embolism had left her susceptible to depression, and his worry was real. Ethic was the last person who could write her off as crazy. He knew what it felt like when a mind was breaking under the pressure of a truth it couldn’t fully hold. He lived with that shit daily. He couldn’t call her crazy when he knew Alani was just feeling what was hidden behind the walls of this home. He just wanted to save her, but how could he do the task when he needed to save her from himself?

“How you holding up?” Nyair asked.

“I have no idea,” Alani sighed. “I feel like I’m completely losing my mind.”

“You got to give yourself some grace, La,” Nyair soothed as he stood before her, hands tucked in his jacket pockets. The wrinkles in his forehead and sympathy in his eyes embarrassed Alani. “You seem to be getting around a lot better. You’re independent. Always hated to need somebody. It’s okay to need your people and let them take care of you right now.”

“Something doesn’t feel right about me being here, Ny. This isn’t a house. It’s a prison,” Alani whispered, eyes watering.

Nyair was a man caught in the middle.

“I promise you, it isn’t,” Nyair’s answer was certain, calm.

“He hid my dead son from me. The kids walk around here, tiptoeing around me. They all choose their words so carefully.” She went down the mental list that had been building. “I called Nannie, and she fussed me, Nyair. Like if I kept digging, I was going to find something.”

“So maybe you should take heed,” Nyair answered. “You think we would allow you to be here if you weren’t loved well? You think I would let you be with a man I thought would hurt you? Ethic would erase every inch of a man’s life over you. He’s erased every threat or inconvenience in your life since the day he met you, except the one he couldn’t see. He couldn’t protect you from this complication, and we all see how hard this is for you. You can’t remember how much you love these people, but you do, Alani. You weren’t okay for a long time before you met Ethic.”

Alani huffed in frustration as she pulled the covers off and slowly arose from the bed.

“What are you doing, La? Get back in bed,” Nyair reasoned.

“No, Ny!” she whispered harshly. “I’m not tripping. My intuition is screaming at me to listen.”

She was louder than she meant to be, and Nyair watched her struggle as she made her way to the dresser.

“I found Kenzie’s autopsy in his safe, Nyair. Why would he have that? I don’t even know if I can trust him.”

“You can,” Nyair said. “He loves you very much.”