Keep On Walking (A Hunter Hayes Fanfiction, Book 3 of the Hardships Saga)

Chapter Forty-One

❝daughter (pronounced ˈdɔːtə or daw-ter), noun
a girl or woman in relation to her parents.
e.g. "You're not my real daughter."❞

Elle practised her pointe at her barre, but sighed, dropping down to her feet again. Even now, over four years later, the chemotherapy had done things to her bones and her body that had weakened her beyond belief.

It was three in the morning. Elle preferred the nighttime. It was the only time that she felt like she was truly alone, where the whole world was asleep, but she was awake. What was the phrase she had read in 'The BFG'? The witching hour. Yes, that was it. The entire night, all the magical things came out to play.

Of course, she was getting too old for these things. It was her birthday today, technically speaking. The eighth of October had been going for about three hours now. She was eleven years old. She told Phoenix stories of Santa, but knew that they weren't real. She didn't say anything when Ryan made her 'fairy burgers'. Her childhood felt like it had faded away with the hospital. She was no longer the little girl she had once been. The one who wished for her Mama every day, and was the only love of her Papa's life.

That wasn't to say she resented her family. It was just an odd feeling to know how big it had gotten in just a couple of years. Her eyes felt tired, but she had been trying to sleep for the past six hours to no avail. She could hear her parents upstairs, talking quietly. Since the 'incident' (which they wouldn't talk about in front of her), they had always been together. Dancing, talking, laughing, making sure that they were always with each other. That wasn't to say that it wasn't easy for her to hear through the walls. Thin walls in their house. She knew at least part of what had happened to them at Ms Mercardo's house.

"... the tour?"

"Exactly. It's the only way. For me. For us. We both need to get through this properly." Papa sighed. "I just hope she doesn't freak out."

"Maybe we should tell her the truth, bluejay. It's not fair on her that we don't tell her."

"No. We can't. Not yet. She's too young."

"Hunter, we have to."

"No."

She sighed. "You're such a child."

"I am not a child."

"Then stop acting like one. We're telling her tomorrow, I don't give a damn what you think anymore."

"I don't want to."

"I don't want to, either. But it's not fair on her. Don't you love her?"

"Of course I do."

"Then?"

He sighed. "Fine."

Were they talking about Robin? Or... were they talking about her?

She shook her head, walking to her bed and taking her ballet flats off and putting her socks back on. There was no use in thinking about it. She was turning eleven. She had better things to think about. She lay in bed, wondering what came next.

One more year, and she would be twelve. It would be twelve years since her real Mama died. Twelve years since... since she killed her.

Was it really Elle's fault? Papa didn't seem to think so. But how couldn't it be? Because Lilly had been pregnant with Elle... it was her fault.

She couldn't think about that now. She needed to sleep.

So she curled up under her covers, and tried to close her eyes.

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Ryan was making French toast, Elle's favourite. Elle walked into the kitchen, looking exhausted. "Hey, pumpkin," she said. "Happy Birthday!"