(Please read Theron 1 before moving on to this book)
A stranger washes ashore on a deserted beach.
With no memory of who or what he is, the only clue he has to his identity--the only thing he recalls from his past life--is a single, solitary name:...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The house is silent when I walk in.
I should be hesitant that everyone is congregated in the same room, giving me the where the hell have you been look... but I'm not.
There's only one thing on my mind.
There's only one person I need to see and I need to see him right now.
I make a b-line straight for Theon...
And he does not disappoint me.
He never disappoints me.
His big brown Theron eyes light up from the floor on which he sits, playing. His little body trembles in excitement as he raises his arms, clenching and unclenching his fists, "Uh, uh! Ma! Uh!"
As I scoop him up and into my arms I can't help but smile, exaltant.
He is safe.
Burying my nose into his neck I inhale deeply, the scent of baby powder and pine comforting to my fried nerves. I allow it to envelope me, a warm blanket that always thaws my icy heart. Relief washes over me and like water to a hot pan it sizzles and smokes away my fears and anxieties... but not without leaving evidence in its wake.
This is one time, the only time, I don't try to hide my feelings.
I don't try to bottle them up in hopes that they do not also affect my child.
Theon pulls away, babbling something as his tiny hand touches my damp face and I know he isnt used to this side of his mother. He doesn't understand the emotions that are falling out of me like a storm cloud and I should cap them off.
I should squash them down.
Box them up.
Lock them away.
But I can't.
Anthony is the first to approach me, as always, his baseball cap pulled up on the crown of his head. Those tender eyes question my tears and I know I have to speak.
I have to explain.
But I can't right now.
I can't.
Everything in my life from the second Theron died has been one big "I can't."
The words refuse to flow because if I speak them aloud, if the universe hears even the faintest whisper, it makes every single premonition true. It makes the queen's warning a rock solid, painful truth... and I can't accept that I may just lose my son.
I won't.
But Anthony, like always, understands... maybe not the specifics, but he trusts my two year long aggravating angst. Infact, he is the only one who has never attempted an intervention. Although he has yet to experience the heartbreak that I have, he is somehow still sympathetic... and I think he believes I will eventually pull through if he just waits long enough.
