46

Andre’s pov

I feel off.

The sky seems to rip and time seems to cleave into before and after. I can say from experience, nothing good comes from it.

The day my precious grandmother died I dreamt that I was walking with her on a very vast and dry land, more like a dessert but not a dessert because in place of sand it was a hard ground like poorly done floor where the cement wasn’t watered and left to dry. If was full of cracks. She held my hand and she would occasionally look down at me with a smile. Never have I ever felt safe, that moment was the peak, all over sudden, python emerged from an anthill at a distance coiling itself on her fragile small body, suffocating and crashing her to her death. I had never been more relieved to be awake when I jumped up from my sleep only for the next day to receive the sad news. I had lost my anchor, Cara stayed with me, she held my hand throughout my mourning and I knew I had found another anchor.

I remember the first time I saw her; she was just four. I was seven years old. Her hair was in pigtails secured by pink polka dot ribbons. She looked like a Barbie doll. Mr. Cooper held her tightly yet gently. He loved her, everywhere he was she was next to him. That evening back at home as I was playing with my cousins, I swore how would want to protect her always.

“She is not a good kid.” My mother warned.

“Why?” I asked.

I couldn’t understand her. The perception i had of Cara was she had tender soul and childish naivety. She smiled with her eyes, as a kid you could feel her innocent soul as she spoke. She was everything I wasn’t, pure.

“she will steal daddy.” She replied.

My seven-year-old brain couldn’t understand that. I was too desperate for my father’s attention; it is like he could smell it and it repulsed him, because that man never hid his disappointments with me. He never forgave me for what happened to my little brother.

The nerve!

Damn his righteous indignation!

He expected a phoenix to rise from me? Only rot, would rise from the monster they created.

“why?” I asked again.

“just don't get fond of her.” My mother warned.

I put the book I am reading away, The Body Keeps Scores, away when I hear the noises inside the house. Fuck! They are at it again; it never stops you would think almost thirty years of marriage they would have run out of things to argue about. I sit up from the sun lounger and remove my sun glasses. I hear a glass shutter; furniture being thrown then everything goes silent. As usual I wait for some minutes before I walk inside the house. The kitchen is a mess, broken pieces of glasses are everywhere, there is a broken dining seat. I keep moving in further to the entrainment lounge. I find my mother seated on of the couches which are covered. She is bleeding. She looks up to me.

“I told you that girl wasn’t good.” She says, “She brought her busty friend on purpose to try to take your father away.” She says.

I don’t know if she believes the words she says, she has been in and out of mental facilities for over a decade.

“She doesn’t know the truth and I will make sure it stays that way and dad will always do as he pleases regardless of who.”

“Your father should never know of her existence.”

I can never bare to see my mother in this much pain, I have had to choose to stay at home for her sake, my father never cares for her as long as she makes him look good. Knowing about Cara’s existence would prove what I have always feared, he would give the love he never showed me. That is Cara, easy to love and hate. She is too blind to realize that about Quinn which is good for me. She can never be happy, her mother took away my mother’s sanity, I can’t let her take away mine. I will take her in circles, she will never win, when she is about to give up, I will revive her hopes with just something of no greater value to her Quest. She may pretend to be strong and brave, she is still that naïve kid with pigtails. I will make sure misery is her second name, and soon another misery will knock on her door, her dear Brother.

“He will never know.” I assure. “let me help you to bed.” I say.

I take her to the guest room where she has been sleeping for some years. My father had to fire the maids since some were passing family matters to the press.

After I have put her to bed, I go back to my room.

My computer’s screen is sleeping, I touch the mouse and it lights up. Everything Quinn needs to know about Misha. Information is powerful, knowing something the other doesn’t, tell me what can better than that? I minimize the screen and switch to my surveillance, Cara doesn’t know that I watch her. She had been sleeping due to her injured leg, let me see what she is up to, she is laying on her bed, reading a book, wait, that looks familiar…I bent under my desk. That bitch took the diary.

Fuck!

Breathe.

She knows.

I was right, you can tell a storm by the clouds. And it is going to pour.

Just a filler as we wrap up book 2, three more chapter. It will get intense and sappy.