Trying To Heal

Chapter Fifty-Six

April

I visited my parents for a week and slept at their house. When the week finished, Mum was driving me back to Tate Manor.

"So," she drawls, tapping the wheel. "How is everything?"

"Not much to say. You know everything."

I decided to tell my parents, Ethan and Makayla what is truly going on. With Luke's permission, of course. In fact, Spade visited Dad one night and showed the Chief Constable his identity. Makayla is still flabbergasted. Her son's godfather is a serial killer, of course she wants time to deliberate.

"I heard what Luke did to those priests. It was your idea, apparently."

"I never meant it. It was an uncontrolled thought."

"But?"

"I hate men like them," I muttered.

"Relatable."

"You're not mad?"

"No," she admits, surprising herself. "Hypocrites deserve a lesson."

Reaching the Matthews' Manor, Mum spent some time with the kids. She left two hours later, and that was when we received a package of Harlow's dress.

Marlene and Lin decided to move back to Japan, to be closer with the kids. She is resigning from the Industry to rest this Friday; the Industry decided to host a surprise party.

The kitchen dishwasher is apparently broken. Derek is fixing it. I help Harlow into the dress. A beautiful, pastel-blue silken attire adorned of lustre designs, complimenting her pale, albino skin tone.

Harlow pats at her waist sides. "It's a bit loose here, April."

I stretch the material. It needs a bit more stitching. "I can tell Bonheur to adjust it. He's here, isn't he?"

"I think he left for work. But he's staying over at the Manor. Can you braid my hair? I want to look pretty like you."

"I can plait your hair. Maybe put it in a nice bun."

Harlow picks up a flower, as a hairpiece. She notices her recently-painted nails and shows them off to me. "Do you like them?"

I gently clasp her hand. "They look beautiful. Did you do this?"

She shakes her head. "Uncle Tan did them for me."

"Do you want to have henna? I brought the packets."

"Henna," echoes Harlow. "Like that art in Asian culture? On your body?"

"Yes."

Harlow grins. "Yes, please, if that is okay." She frowns. "I think I have to ask Dad, though. He might let me."

I winked at her. "Oh, he will, as long as I'm here. Plus, he knows how to do it."

"He does?"

"I've been teaching him."

Harlow giggles. "I really like it when you come over." She surprises me: suddenly hugging my neck and pressing my face into her small chest. "I hate being the only girl. It's so annoying."

***

Derek offered a guest room for me to accommodate. I don't mind if we sleep together. We both like our space. Occasionally, I sneak into his room, which is what I am doing right now.

He didn't hear me come in. I lean on the doorframe, absorbing how hot he is shirtless, showing the curves and textures of his muscled physique. Sweatpants loosely hanging around his waist; that hewed and detectable V-line. When he works out in the gym, I love to watch the muscles in his back flex and stretch — weirdly, it is hypnotising. Earlier today, I watched him fix the dishwasher with Tanner. The flexing of his veiny hands ... the dangles of his heirloom necklace ... the black glasses ...