PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 8
I had thought the information that I'd been given would be easy to keep to myself, but the moment I got into the house, I wanted to tell Mitch. I needed someone to confide in. Though he knew nothing about my search to find the truth about the infamous Rachael, to just tell him would let it off my chest. I needed to tell someone the things I now knew. It excited me that I had found out more about her than I had thought I would find. I had assumed asking questions about her would make Mama and Ella stop talking, or even get angry at me and tell me to keep to my own business. I knew I must have been smiling about my newfound information as I walked down the hallway towards the library, where I knew Mitch had himself holed up, because as I began to turn the corner I heard a most familiar and irritating voice call out to me. "What the hell are you so happy about?" Jenny asked from the doorway of her bedroom. She was dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans that were cut far too low on her hips and a pink top that looked more like she had cut out a piece of cloth, sewed it in the back, put it on and called it a shirt. You'd think with her being so rich she'd dress better, I thought to myself. "Why does it matter to you what has me smiling?" I snapped, though the smile remained on my face. "You don't like me and the same goes for me not liking you. So why ask me? Besides," I said, rambling on because it was obviously annoying her, "I wouldn't ever answer a question so rudely asked." "I asked you because I need to find a way to wipe the smile off of your face." Her black eyes glared at me defiantly. I shook my head. I still had yet to figure out why she hated me so much. Instead of getting angry and making a vicious attack in words, I smiled sweetly at her. "That is all the more reason for me not to tell you, now, isn't it?" I turned my back on her with her eyes shooting daggers as I made my way down to the library. I entered the library, calling out for Mitch. When he didn't answer back, I found it kind of odd. I looked about the library, calling for him, but I couldn't find him anywhere. I decided he must be in his bedroom or in the garden, and quickly left the library to go searching. But when I found that he wasn't in the garden or his bedroom, fear began to make my heart pound fiercely in my chest. It wasn't like Mitch to just disappear. Worry sent me to Jenny's door. I knew she was just like Uncle Gerald and thought disgusting thoughts about my friendship with her brother, but I didn't care. I was honestly worried about him. I knocked softly on the door, and when I heard her call out, "Come in, Penny!", I entered. She was on the phone, lying on her bed and when she saw it was I instead of her maid she shot me a look of irritation. "What do you want?" she demanded instantly. "No, not you, Melissa. Hold on a sec," she said to the girl on the phone. She raised her eyebrows. "Well?" "Have you seen Mitch at all today, Jenny?" I asked. I wasn't going to be rude to her. I needed to know that she had seen him and that he was fine; just had gone out somewhere. The chances of that being the case, though, were very slight. She looked at me with disgust and rolled her eyes. "No, I haven't seen my brother today. He's probably hiding to escape you. I'm sure he's tired of you fawning over him like some obsessed girl." "It's not that, Jenny." I was too worried to get into an argument, but I was willing to do so. Of course, I was always willing to do so. "Then what is it?" she snapped. Then she held up her forefinger to hush me. "I'll call you back, Melissa." Then she hung up the phone. "Mitch is usually in three places of this house: the library, the garden and his bedroom. He's not in any of the three and it worries me. Mitch rarely ever leaves the library during the day." She thought about it for a second and I saw the slight signs of worry in the black depths of her eyes. "Well, he has to be around here somewhere!" She rose from the bed. "We need to find him. Last time this happened he had a seizure and stopped breathing." Suddenly fear became panic, and Jenny had become my partner. We began searching the house, telling the servants to look for him as well. It felt as if we had looked for him for hours when we found him, when it had been a mere twenty minutes. He was in the library off in a corner of the room, lying on the floor. When I found him there, I cried out to Jenny to get help, then rushed to his side. "Mitch," I cried, turning him over onto his back. "Mitch, wake up, please. Wake up!" I demanded. He was breathing, but he wasn't waking up. I saw the cut on his forehead where he had hit it on something. I could only assume he must have had a seizure like Jenny had thought, and had fallen from the chair. "You have to get up, Mitch. I don't understand what's going on." Tears were burning my eyes. I had never been so scared in my life. Just then Jenny came back into the room alone. "I called an ambulance, they should be here in a few minutes," she said, coming over to stand next to me. "He'll be alright. He was last time." "I didn't know anything was wrong with him." I looked up at her. "He never told me that he had seizures." "He started having them after the accident. They gave him medication for it and it helps, but there have been a few times it hasn't helped." The paramedics came in through the library doors at that moment, and Jenny rushed over to lead them to where Mitch lay. Hours later, we all sat in the halls of the hospital, all urging Mitch to open his pretty bright blue eyes, smile and tell us everything would be alright. I wanted to hear that he would be fine. I hated knowing that one of the only friends I'd ever had, one of the only people I'd ever trusted, was so close to death. The doctor had told us that there was no telling how long he'd been out and how long the coma would last. Though all of us were sad and depressed over Mitch being in the coma, Ella was certainly the one closest to losing her mind. She sat hours and hours up at the hospital, begging him not to die. It was a depressing sight to see her sitting beside him, talking to him, silent tears making paths down her cheeks. After four days of sitting there besides him, Ella looked like she had just gone to hell and was still trying to come back. Her hair hadn't been brushed in day, and her eyes had heavy bags beneath them. Her eyes themselves were red rimmed from crying so much. She had cried so much that I didn't think there were any tears left in her, for she sat there, just staring at her son without any tears in her eyes. I was miserable myself, but I couldn't stand to see Ella, who always kept up her appearance so well, look so horrible. I wanted to see her pretty bright smile again, and her make up and hair done to perfection. I didn't want to see her misery because it tore at my heart. "Ella," I began on the fifth day. "Come on, let's get you home. You need some sleep and rest," I told her, as I tugged gently on her arm, trying to make her rise from the seat beside his bed. "No!" she cried out. It was almost as if I had told her that there was no hope and he would never open his eyes again. "I can't leave him. What if he were to wake up while I was gone?" "I'll stay here with him, then," I promised her. "Please, Ella, I don't want you to get sick. You have to go home and rest some. You have to be strong for Mitch." "You'll stay with him?" She looked almost child-like as she looked up at me with her wide, golden-coloured eyes. "Of course I will, Ella. He's my friend, and I love him dearly. Why wouldn't I?" Why did she seem so shocked that she wasn't the only one that cared about him? I quickly got my answer. "Well, for so long I've been the only one to take care of him and love him. I just never thought that�" She trailed off, and tears came into eyes that I had thought couldn't cry anymore. "Well, it is different now, Ella," I assured her. "Now, if he wakes up while you are gone, I'll be sure to tell him that you have been here the whole time." Though I highly doubted that he would wake up while she was gone. She finally nodded her head after what seemed like an eternity. I was certain that she had got so lost in her thoughts that she had forgotten that I was standing right beside her. "Alright," she said, and rose slowly. "I'll go home and take a bath and get some sleep." I led her out of the hospital and helped her into the car, making sure to promise her a dozen or so times that I would take care of him while she was unable to. For hours I sat besides Mitch's bed that day, just staring at him. I wasn't going to beg him to wake up, it would have been a waste of my breath, and I knew that. So I just sat and stared, praying in my heart that the next time I blinked and opened my eyes, two blue ones would be staring back at me. I still didn't understand. I didn't know that he had been taking any sort of medication for epilepsy. I didn't know that he suffered from chronic seizures. Maybe if I had known I would have been better prepared for something like this. Then I thought more about it. Nobody could be prepared for somebody they care about going into a coma and being so close to death. Nobody could ever be prepared to deal with death, or almost death. Death was something you dealt with when it happened, not something you dealt with before and just expected so much that you were prepared for it. You can't be prepared for it. I ran my fingers across Mitch's cheek and through his thick chestnut hair. He certainly was handsome, I thought to myself. How could any girl not ever see that and just dismiss him because of the wheelchair he sat in? His lashes were long and curled up, making me awful jealous. I laughed out loud. "Oh, Mitch, how could I be jealous of those eyelashes of yours at this moment in time?" It felt good to laugh, and I laughed out loud some more. But my laughing was quite hysterical and soon it turned to sobs that shook my entire body. "I promised myself I wouldn't beg you to wake up, but please, please wake up! Don't leave me yet, you're the only person I trust, Mitch!" Finally, my sobs quieted, and eventually stopped completely. I wiped continuously at my eyes to get rid of the tears that threatened to fall. I wouldn't cry any longer. I didn't want to. I wanted to be strong for him, not cry and whine and beg for him to stay alive. If he were to die then, that meant it was just time for him to go, didn't it? I fought with my emotions late into the day and into the night. Finally, Ella walked through the door looking well rested. Though sadness darkened her pretty eyes, she looked healthier than before. Though she wore not a stitch of make up, the dark circles under her eyes were gone and her hair was brushed. "You better go on home, Phoenix. I'll stay with him, now." She spoke calmly, and I could tell that she was fighting her tears and her own emotions that threatened to take over her body and throw her farther into a black pit of despair. She smiled sadly at me. "Thank you for watching over him." She choked on sobs that got stuck in her throat. "Part of me was hoping that when I walked in here he would be sitting up talking to you, asking when I would be coming back." My own tears began to flow again, and this time I was unable to stop them. "I wish that he would have been up asking me that when you walked in, Ella," I cried. I rose from my chair and went to her, throwing my arms about her. We stood there, holding onto each other, crying so hard that were we to let go of one another, we would certainly fall apart. Finally, after another hour of sitting with Ella and Mitch, I went home. It seemed that everyone in the house either didn't care or didn't want to think about what was going on with Mitch. Jenny was certainly like an ostrich, sticking her head into the sand and ignoring the fact that her brother was almost dead. She ignored me as I walked right past her in the hallway, sticking her nose up in the air at me. Uncle Gerald just didn't give a damn whether his stepson lived or died. Of course, my great uncle was a mean man who thought the weaker people of the world should all be dead, anyhow. Mama just didn't know Mitch well enough to be saddened by it, so she kept to herself, never visiting the hospital or comforting her best friend. I honestly didn't care if anyone comforted me, especially Mama, but Mama was supposed to be Ella's friend and cousin, and she wasn't doing very well playing her role of the concerned family member. After all, Mitch was still her young cousin. She should care a little bit. I chose to ignore the three of them as I made my way to my bedroom, where I curled up in my bed without a thought to putting on pyjamas. I merely kicked off my shoes and socks and lay back on my bed. As I lay there, I thought about my mysterious older cousin, my father's cousin. It seemed to me that Mama had been friends with Rachael, just so she could earn her trust and then take her down. Jealousy had made her plot against her. Yet, why was Mama so upset by her actions? Had she been torn? Had she really cared about her? It confused me. Why had she told on her and purposely made her life and live hell, and yet seemed to care about her, too? Why was Mama really jealous of Rachael? I knew that Mama had to be hiding something from me, not telling me the real reason why she was jealous of her. The questions about Mama and Rachael's relationship flew through my mind at a fast pace, making my head spin. I knew I just had to find the answers to all of these questions. I knew that I would find the answers. But it would take some time doing so. I would have to be patient. I fell asleep knowing that the answers to all of my questions would be unveiled sooner or later, probably sooner rather than later. Sadness, I decided, had a way of taking pity on you. When you think you've had just about enough misery, and you were ready to say forget life, it gave you something to live for. It gave you something to smile about. Happiness would come back into your life and make you want to live again. Which is exactly what happened the next morning when I woke to the sound of the phone beside my bed ringing annoyingly, over and over again, mighty early in the morning. The sun had just begun to rise over the horizon when the phone began to ring non-stop. Finally, deciding whoever it was wasn't going to hang up, I reached over, groping the table for the phone. I picked it up and practically snapped a "hello?" into the phone. Yet, the voice on the other line had me sitting straight up, wide-awake in my bed, excitement making my heart pound. "You have to get down to the hospital right away, Phoenix!" Ella cried into the phone. She sounded happy, excited. "I think he's going to open his eyes soon. Come! Quickly!" She didn't give me a chance to ask why she thought that; she just hung up the phone. It took a second for what she said to sink into my groggy brain, but when it did I jumped from my bed, took a quick shower, got dressed and rushed to the hospital. I sped down the halls of the hospital, my shoes making plenty of noise on the linoleum floor as I practically ran. When I got to Mitch's room, Ella sat beside him, her hand in his, her eyes shining luminously, a smile wide upon her pretty face. "What's happened?" I demanded immediately, sitting down on Mitch's bed beside him. "He squeezed my hand, Phoenix! He's alive! He's not going to die!" A smile as broad as Ella's crossed my lips and tears of happiness came to my eyes. "Oh, Ella! That's wonderful! He's really not going to leave us!" I exclaimed, grabbing hold of Mitch's other hand. Ella and I sat beside Mitch for the rest of the day, and half of the next, talking to him, urging him to pull himself all the way awake. Several times he squeezed our hands and I knew that he was alive and fighting to pull his eyes open. Every time I felt the slight pressure of him weakly squeezing my hand, I would squeeze back and urge him on even more. By the next day, our hopes and spirits raised, Ella and I decided that if we left him just long enough to go to the cafeteria to eat, it wouldn't hurt any. Both of us, I knew, were hoping in our hearts that when we arrived back in the room his eyes might be open, looking about his surroundings confused, but alive, very alive. That's all I wanted, to see those vibrant blue eyes looking so bright and alive again. Mitch had always seemed so alive before, in spite of the fact that being in a wheelchair should depress him drastically. Yet, he never seemed depressed, but always happy. That is how I wanted to see him again, bright and happy, forever happy. As we sat in the cafeteria eating a well-deserved meal, Ella and I spoke excitedly. There were no longer any doubts in my mind about whether he would live or not. Now all we had to do was wait for those blue eyes to open up again. The waiting would be the most difficult part, I decided. There were very few other people in the cafeteria other than us. So when the sound of shoes hitting linoleum at a quick pace came to fill the room, both Ella and I quit talking and glanced over to the doorway. Both of us were shocked to see Mama rushing at us at a fast pace, looking excited, a smile wide across her lips. She hadn't even stopped before she was calling out to us. "Ella, Phoenix, you're never going to believe it!" She arrived at the table, and before either of us could ask her what was going on, she had an iron grip on both of our arms and was dragging us towards the door. Finally, I pressed my feet firmly to the floor, refusing to move a muscle before I knew what was going on. "Mama, I'm not moving until you tell me why you are so damn happy you have to drag us out of here without explaining!" My words didn't pierce the smile on her face at all. "Oh, it's too wonderful for the two of you to explain. You really must see for yourself!" I finally gave in and followed her quickly down the hall to Mitch's room. Her excitement was suddenly making my heart pound and making me feel light-headed. Suddenly she thrust us into Mitch's room. The sight before me had me in tears of sheer happiness. A nurse sat beside Mitch, who was now sitting up with his eyes open! She was trying to give him a drink of juice from a straw; he was having a difficult time but he was managing. I wasn't paying much attention at all to what was going on, however. All that was going through my mind was the fact that he was alive! He was not only alive, but awake and sitting up! I had to stop myself from running over and throwing my arms about him. Yet, I couldn't stop my tears. "Oh, Mitch! You're alright!" I choked out and rushed to his bedside. "Are you okay? Do you remember me?" My questions rushed out. I looked back at Ella, who was so stunned that even in her happiness she couldn't move at all. Mitch's eyes, which look tired and drained, seemed to be laughing at me all the same. "Oh, Phoenix, I was in a coma, I don't have amnesia!" His voice was hoarse and it seemed to pain him to say those few words. He reached for his throat and closed his eyes in pain as he rubbed it. The nurse quickly placed the straw to his lips. Ella was at his bedside now, her own tears silently making their way down her cheeks. She made no move to brush them away. Mitch looked up at her and smiled weakly. "Hi, Mama," he whispered hoarsely. It was the first time I'd ever heard him call her that. Within seconds from the words coming out of his mouth, Mitch was in Ella's arms. She sat beside him on his bed, rocking him gently back and forth, yet holding onto him as if she were holding his very life within him. Though Mitch had to stay in the hospital a week for recovery, just knowing he was alive brought me comfort. The sleep deprivation I had suffered from before had left me go of its sleepless grasp. I now slept through the night, but made sure to get up early and go to the hospital to check on Mitch. It brought me such happiness to see him recover. While I sat hours up at the hospital, I discussed Rachael with him. "You are really fascinated by her, aren't you?" he asked. His eyes stared at me intently, waiting for me to answer. "I somehow feel close to her. Maybe because I am always compared to her by Ella, or maybe because I am in her room. Of course, I think your mother could take a girl off of the streets and compare her to her Rachael," I laughed. "Maybe so," Mitch said, his head cocked to the side. "Or maybe you really are just like her." "You would know, wouldn't you? I mean, you did know her." Maybe Mitch, even if he had been a child when she had run off, for that is what I assumed she had done, knew something. "I was too young to remember anything but her kindness towards me. Everything else I know about her I only know through things I have heard people say about her." My hopes rose higher. Maybe he'd heard something helpful. "People?" I asked curiously. "The only one that I ever hear talk about her is Ella." He smiled charmingly at me. "You may have only met the family, Phoenix, but this family has many friends that you have yet to meet. Many people who knew Rachael. Some are content with the thought that she is dead. Others�" He trailed off and I raised my eyebrows in question. "Others what?" I demanded instantly. My heart was pounding. Why was it so important that I knew things about Rachael? I didn't understand anymore what I was aiming for truly. All I knew is that I was obsessed with finding out the truth. "Others find her death hard to believe, just as you do," he reluctantly told me. Why was he so reluctant? I knew Mitch knew more than he was letting on. But why? Confusion was becoming more and more like my best friend. He sighed and shook his head. "Leave it alone, Phoenix. Digging up the past is only going to drive you crazy. You won't be happy just finding out some things, but you'll have to bring up the whole thing. It's been long dead and buried. Why can't you leave it peacefully in its grave?" He seemed rather bitter to the past. What exactly did he know? "Mitch, there is something out there just waiting for me to uncover it. You want me to leave it alone, but I can't. That is what everyone else has done. Please, if you can't, or won't, tell me something, tell me somebody who can!" I was begging now. My need to know more really was going to drive me insane, I thought. Maybe he was right. Maybe I should just leave it alone. "I'm not getting into this, Phoenix. I care about you a great deal. You really are my best friend. But I'm not getting into it," he said. He looked into my eyes, and I silently begged him to please tell me something. Anything! I had to know. He sighed deeply and looked away. "Alright. Give me a pen and piece of paper," he said, his shoulders drooping in defeat. Excitedly, I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and handed them to him. He scrawled out an address across the paper and handed it to me. "You cannot let your mother, my mother or Gerald see the address on that paper. They'll know where you got it and there will be hell to pay," he said. Excitement pounded through me as I looked down at the address. The name on it was Melanie Daniels. I looked up at Mitch. "Who is this exactly?" I asked. "She was an old friend of Rachael's. Somebody who won't think of Rachael as being dead. She refuses to believe it, just as you do. When she comes over to the house for parties and such things, she always frustrated Gerald by asking if Rachael has come home yet." He noticed how surprised I was by someone purposely frustrating my uncle. He laughed. "Yes, she enjoys irritating my mother's husband." The smile disappeared from his face and his eyes became intense. "Be careful, Phoenix, okay? You never know what you're going to find out." After promising to be careful, I went home to get ready for dinner. I hid the address with the picture under the vanity table. I couldn't wait to meet this Melanie. She could have a lot of secrets of the past to open up for me. The simple slip of paper that Mitch had written on had become a most cherished gift. I didn't know what it would bring me, but I couldn't wait to find out. That night at dinner I managed to keep from arguing with anyone. Ella was in an absolutely great mood because soon she would have her son home, Mama was suffering from a nauseous stomach and wasn't even at dinner, and Jenny had managed to skip dinner to go out on a date. Gerald sat quietly eating, as he always did, not glancing even slightly at me. We all sat quietly, content with everything going on. It felt good to feel so comfortable for once. Later that night, long after everyone had gone to bed, I lay wide-awake, unable to sleep. I couldn't wait to go see Melanie Daniels. Tomorrow just wasn't coming soon enough. And I did plan on seeing her as soon as possible tomorrow. If I could, that was. I was going to call her first, Mitch had told me to do so, and had quickly written her phone number on the paper before I'd left. Unable to sleep, I shot a look at the clock over my bedroom door. Fortunately, the clock ran on batteries, because a summer storm that had come up from nowhere had knocked the electricity out, and I wouldn't be able to see that it was three thirty in the morning. Too restless to sleep, I got up and lit a candle to see my way into the kitchen. I wanted to get some milk to help me sleep, but I knew that without the halls dimly lit by the wall sconces, there was no way I'd make it into the kitchen in the dark! In nothing but a short silk nightgown and robe that Ella had bought for me, I slipped my way down the hall. Since I had no intention of running into anyone, I had simply slipped into the robe and left it open, flowing gently behind me as I walked. The house in its darkness gave me the chills, and made me jump every time the soft lavender silk of the robe hit my calves, making me wish I had taken the time to shut it and tie it tightly. The storm was still roaring outside, making the ocean slap viciously against the waves. I could hear it clearly, and every now and then lightning would flash and light up the room to make shadows dance on the walls. In spite of how well built my uncle's home was, a bit of the wind outside was managing to get in slightly, and it made my candle flicker fiercely. Just as I entered the kitchen, the candle snuffed out and I was left in complete darkness, except for the flashes of lightning every now and then. Even though I was nearly sixteen years old, I was still scared of the dark something awful. I felt my way around until I hit the nearest counter, and I set my candle on top of it. I backed up against the counter, hoping and praying for the lights to turn back on or the lightning to flash so I could get some quick glimpse of light. Nature won out and the lightning flashed across the sky, sending shadows every which way. Including the outline of a person. I let out a low, frightened cry as whoever it was played with the door handle. Finally, the person outside managed to fight the wind and pull the door open, and be thrust into the room. The door slammed behind him, for it was most certainly a man, making me jump. I prayed that in the darkness, he could not see me. Yet, my prayers went unanswered as a flash of lightning hit the sky once again, illuminating the two of us. "Whoever is there, can you possibly light a candle?" a young man's voice said softly. "It's awful dark in here and I'd like to see the face of the person I am speaking to." He wanted to see my face? What about me wanting to see his? In spite of how scared I was, I remembered the lighter I had set in the slit of a pocket on my robe. I wanted to see who this stranger was, and my curiosity won over my fear. I fumbled for the lighter and quickly lit my candle. The young man who stood before me was dreadfully handsome and familiar, in spite of being soaking wet. The only thing that had managed to stay dry were his pants that were covered by his ankle-length rain coat. Yet when he took it off, the shirt beneath it was soaked as well. His jet-black hair was wet and matted down to his head. Familiar green eyes peered at me and smiled. Oh, why hadn't I recognised that voice? There stood Damian right before me. "What are you doing here?" I demanded immediately. "And why in the world are you coming through that door rather than knocking or ringing the bell? You're acting like a damn thief!" I cried out. I remembered quickly what I was wearing, and pulled my robe tightly around my body. "I was hoping to come convince you of leaving here. When I met up with Celeste and she told me that you had run off because you were pregnant with my child, and your mother has run off because she was too upset to deal with things, I could only imagine the story you two concocted up. We never had sex, Phoenix, so how would you be pregnant with my child?" He was laughing, yet his question was asked seriously. "It's none of your business what is going on, Damian," I said and went to open the door, and demand he leave. "Like Hell it's not!" His voice raised and then quickly lowered. "It is my business when you are claiming that you are carrying my child when you are not," he said, coming to stand just inches away from me. My candle snuffed out again, my being too close to the door let the wind blow it out again. When lightning hit the sky once again, I was able to see his familiar green eyes pleading with me for an answer. I sighed, lit the candle again and then pulled him up the stairs and into my sitting room, where I lit the fire for some form of warmth. "You had better get out of that shirt before you get sick," I said, turning around to him. "I'll get you a blanket." "You're dawdling to draw things out, Phoenix. I just want to know what is going on!" He was getting impatient, but I would tell him on my own time. "I owe you nothing, Damian. You owe me something. That something, at the moment, would be patience. Now get out of that wet shirt and let me get you a blanket," I demanded, staring him in the eyes. He shrugged out of his shirt and sat down on the couch beside the fireplace. I grabbed a blanket for him and handed it over. As much as I hated to admit it, Damian was handsome. I had a hard time dealing with even looking at him, however, because of his affair with both my mother and sister. The thought of it was clawing wildly at my insides, driving me insane. Looking at him brought images of Celeste and Mama in his arms. I shivered with disgust and sat down on the side of the fireplace, letting the heat warm me. The feel of the burning fire against my body, making my nightgown grow almost unbearably hot, took my mind off of Damian's affair with my two family members. I let him sit and squirm for a while. I knew what I had to tell him was eating at him horribly and I loved it. I wanted him to feel as if I was dangling something over his head, making him jump to get it, only bringing it higher with every jump. I wanted him to feel a sense of dread. The same sense of dread I had felt when the realisation of his sexual encounters with Mama and Celeste hit me like a ton of bricks. Though it was killing him to know the answers to his questions, he didn't ask again. I could almost feel his guilt and it made me smile. I wanted to hurt him; I suddenly realised. I wanted to scream and holler at him and make him feel as if his world were crumbling down. But his world would crumble. The thought entered my mind at a rapid pace. He was the father of a child, whether he wanted to be or not. He was the father of my youngest sibling. I turned then and looked at him. His eyes looked at me with sincere curiosity and nervousness. I could almost see the butterflies in his stomach in the green depths. Finally, I began. "You told me of your affair with Mama and Celeste, Damian. What you weren't told was that Mama is pregnant with your child," I concluded. His jaw dropped to the floor. "How can either of you be sure that the baby is even mine?" he nearly growled after he got over the shock. Anger was left in its place, and it was shining in his eyes like a green wildfire. "What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded. I somehow knew what he meant, yet I wanted hear him say it. I needed a reason to attack somebody. "You know as well as I do, Phoenix, that your mother is no more than a whore willing to give it out to anyone. That baby could be anyone's child," he declared, and as much as I didn't want to think about it, I knew he was right. There was no proof of Mama's baby being his at all. And yet, I defended her with a passion. "Don't lie to yourself, Damian. The times all match up right. You're going to be a father whether you want to be or not, so take a little bit of responsibility for it!" I was up in a flash, my hands on my hips. "Just like your mother is taking responsibility for it, Phoenix?" he snapped back in response. Suddenly, my tongue had no words to whip out. "You're taking responsibility for her mistakes. Don't you realise that?" I closed my eyes and dropped my head in defeat. I bit my bottom lip, trying my damnedest not to cry. Then he was in front of me again, near inches from me. I looked up at him, wanting him to understand. "He'd kill her, Damian, if I didn't do something." I choked on my words, but forced them out. "That's not your affair, Phoenix. You don't even realise it." I was confused by what he meant. It was my family, my mother. How was it none of my affair? I was about to get the answer I never thought I would get. The answer that would shock me down to my toes. But Damian wasn't about to tell me just yet. Before I could ask, his lips were suddenly inches away from mine. I wanted to pull away from his kiss, I wanted to kick and scream out how much I hated and distrusted him. Yet, I just stood there and let his lips capture mine. Instead of a scream from my throat came a soft moan, and instead of kicking, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back with a passion that was shocking to both of us. I had never been kissed before this night. We pulled apart and he seemed just as shocked by his actions as I was by mine. Yet, we seemed unable to stop it. His lips were on mine again, only harder and by far more passionate this time. I was crushed to his body in an oddly comfortable way. That's when we heard the pound of my door hitting the wall with a force that left a hole in the wall where the doorknob met the wall. Damian quickly thrust me back and then grabbed me before I could fall into the fireplace. Both of us stood there, stunned by the big man in the doorway, glowering at us. Glowering, especially, at me. Uncle Gerald stood in the doorway, looking as if Satan himself had just entered the room. The look of condemnation on his face sent a chill up my spine and made me want to hide, and never had I wanted to hide from anyone. With the glowing red of the fire behind us, he was a mere shadow with a face, only lightened by the candle he held in his own hand, as evil as Hell. He pointed his finger at me as if he were condemning me to an eternity of Hell. "I knew it!" he screamed in declaration. "You're no better than your whoring mother! No better than she was!" His words, though frightening, also confused me. I couldn't help but demand back in spite of fear. "Than she was?" I asked in a voice that was pathetically only above a whisper. He let out a frightening laugh as he entered the room, closer to me. "Are you that much of an idiot, girl! Don't you realise who your mother is?" When I stood there, looking confused, he laughed his wicked laugh again. I shot a look at Damian, who didn't look confused, but sad. He quickly shifted his eyes away and I looked back to Uncle Gerald. "You don't even realise who I am, do you, you little moron?" His laughter halted as he realised I truly had no idea what he was talking about. "What are you talking about, Uncle Gerald?" I was almost in tears. I was so confused and it was frustrating me to the point of crying. "He's not your uncle, Phoenix," Damian suddenly piped up. I spun to face him fully, and he shook his head. "He's your grandfather."
