The Unhappy Heart (Book 1 of The Wolfheart Trilogy)

34. A New Beginning

It was dark. And she was falling. Falling deeper and deeper into its depths. A strange humming sound seemed to fill her head, until it was all she was aware of. Blurs of colour and glimmering lights rushed past her. Then everything seemed to fade like she was swirling in nothingness. 

Then there was a blinding white light and she was reeling towards it. Her hand reached out as if to grasp it, and so it was that she broke out through the surface, coughing and gasping for air. She clutched onto the sodden banks and pulled herself from the water. Crawling away from the pool's edge, she rolled over onto the grass. As she steadied her breathing, she glanced about her, taking it all in. It was exactly as she remembered.

The knotted old rose bushes still bore their wilted blossoms. The single willow whose leaves swept mournfully across the ground. And then the crumbling walls that surrounded the garden. Andrea could not help but think of how proudly they must have once stood. She wondered what they could have been and how it even came to be there.

In her mind's eye, she could almost see the tall slim figure of a pale being, tending to the small saplings that had now become thick rose bushes. Their long thin fingers drifted over the small green leaves, touching them with a gentle fondness.

Andrea shook away the vivid thoughts as she arose, shivering as a cold breeze whispered about her. Her footsteps hurrying, she passed through the small rusty gate. Unbeknownst to her, a pale dark-eyed being watched her go, its cold spirit mourning her warmth. It knew better than she, that she would never enter the garden again.

As Andrea raced through the forest, retracing her footsteps of that fateful day that now seemed so long ago, it was as if her feet had grown wings. There was no fear anymore, just a burning desire to fix everything and restart her life. But as she burst through the undergrowth and into a small clearing, her heart almost stopped. Without a sound, she stepped back into the overhanging branches. Her breath came in small shaky gasps and she swayed slightly as her legs suddenly felt weak.

Two men were standing in the clearing, one with his hand on a younger man's shoulder. Both looked worn to the point of exhaustion. 

The older man spoke.

"You've done everything you can, Leonard. But you need to stop now. Vivian needs you and you need to rest. Let the others take over."

The younger man ran his hand over his face, before taking a deep shuddering breath. "Don't tell me to give up, Andrew. Don't tell me to just sit and wait. You and I both know the police and searchers won't give it their all. I know what they are thinking. That..." He seemed to choke on his words. "They keep talking about how many days have gone by. But please, Andrew, let me hold on for a little longer. If I don't have hope, I have nothing. Please, I have to keep believing. Please..."

He looked up to meet the older man's eyes. But there was only pity to be seen there. With an anguished sob, Leonard slowly sank to the ground. He pressed his hand to his mouth trying to silence the shuddering sobs. Andrew, who Andrea now recognised as Francis's foster father, reached out to grip his shoulder.

"You've done everything, Leonard. You did your best."

Leonard shook his head, his shoulders shaking violently under his friend's supporting touch. 

"I failed, Andrew. I failed as a father. I failed her. I failed my baby girl." The tears were running in torrents. "I was such a fool. How could I have neglected and abandoned her? My own child. What kind of father was I, hiding and refusing to face her? I was so cruel."

Andrea inched forward, trying to hear and make sense of the conversation. A part of her longed to run to her father, but she held back, wanting to know the reason she had suddenly been left at her Aunt's house, feeling abandoned and forgotten.