Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Starling

I wake up with a jolt and realize I'm alone.

I look at the clock. Seven a.m. I jump out of bed and creep down to my room, my heart pounding in my chest. There's a twisted kind of irony in doing the walk of shame from your marital bed. I guess that's what it is now. Hudson's already ordered me to stay in his room.

I slip inside without anyone seeing me and strip out of my clothes, leaving them like breadcrumbs as I walk into the bathroom. Climbing into the shower, I try to calm my racing heart back down to normal. I'm not sure that's possible, given the chaos that is my life now.

As much as I want to hide in here for the rest of the day, I know I can't.

Turning the shower off, I get out and dry myself, wrapping a towel around my body and grabbing one to dry my hair. Walking back into the bedroom, I head straight to the dresser, pulling out a white cotton bra and matching panties. Dropping my towel, I quickly pull them before heading over to the closet. Feeling cold despite the early morning sun, I slip into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved white Henley. I throw on a plaid shirt over the top and slide my feet into a pair of beat-up Vans, going for comfort over fashion. I pull my hair up into a ponytail and apply a little cover-up to hide the circles under my eyes, and that's it. I don't bother with anything else—I just don't have the energy to care what anyone thinks today.

The fact that I'm up and dressed is a miracle in itself. I blow out a deep breath, and as I reach for the door handle, I spot the tattoo on my finger—the one I'd been trying to ignore.

My chest tightens, and my anxiety spikes as I imagine all the stares and gossip I'm bound to face. Shaking my head, I drop my hand and back away from the door.

I can't do this.

A knock on the door has me jumping and looking up, frozen in place. I don't answer it, too afraid to move or speak or breathe.

Another knock, and then Abbot's voice calls out. "Starling?" I watch as the door opens, and my mouth suddenly goes dry. He stands there, smiling tentatively at me. "Hey."

"Hi," I whisper, like I didn't have his cum inside me only yesterday.

He walks forward, and my stomach churns at the thought of him being too close. I remember the video footage Hudson showed me. If there are cameras in the room we shared, there are definitely cameras in here.

"Are you okay?"

I back up when he gets too close, vomit rushing up my throat. I run to the bathroom and drop to my knees, puking what little was in my stomach into the toilet bowl.

Abbot's behind me a second later, rubbing my back. "Alright, I've got you."

I throw up again, gasping and choking on the rancid taste of guilt and shame.

"I'm going to stay home today. I don't feel good," I tell him, making him chuckle.

"I think I got that, babe. Here, let me get you a washcloth."

He rummages around in the cabinet before finding one. He soaks it in cold water and wrings it out before passing it to me.

Like a goddamned idiot, I reach for it, freezing when I hear him suck in a sharp breath.

He takes my hand and lifts it, taking in my tattoo. "I saw my dad this morning."

I shrink further into myself as his grip on my hand tightens.

"Fun fact: he has a new tattoo too. In the same place as yours," he says, his voice hollow and cold.

"Abbot—"

"What did you do?" he whispers.

"I'm sorry," I sob.

"What did you do?" he roars, dropping my hand like it's on fire.

He storms into my room and starts throwing things, his anger growing as loud as my silence. I struggle to get to my feet, my legs shaking as I hurry out to him. I reach for him, but he shoves me away. I land on the bed and stay there as he destroys my room. He heads for the door and pauses to look at me with an expression of utter disgust.

"Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't acknowledge my existence. As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me." He shakes his head, ignoring my tears. "I guess my friends were right all along. You really are a whore."

He walks away, consumed by fiery indignation, leaving me to burn.

I barely make it to the bathroom in time to start dry-heaving, my face covered in tears and snot. Lifting my head, I scream as everything I knew would happen happens.

I drag myself to my feet and brush my teeth, even as my stomach keeps churning. I turn and notice the razor I dropped on the floor of the shower, taunting me. I bend down to grab it, squeezing it in my hands for a moment before I pop the blade free from the plastic. I don't peel my jeans down, though, to give myself the sweet relief I crave. This time, it won't be enough.

Instead, I sit on the toilet seat and press the blade to my wrist, trying to hold it steady as big, wretched sobs jolt through me. I press a little harder, just needing an escape, needing it all to stop.

I look at my tattoo, the cherry blossoms, and think of the promises I made to Eloise. With a scream, I throw the blade across the room. I stumble out of the bathroom and drag myself downstairs. I focus on the front door. When I reach it, I concentrate on making it down the steps outside.

When I step off the last step, I start walking. I notice Hudson's and Abbot's cars are gone as I walk away, down the driveway, away from this place that I've slowly begun to hate. I shut out everything, my brain needing a break.

I walk around for hours, ignoring the rumble of my stomach and the dryness of my throat. My tears have long since dried. Now, I'm just numb.

I feel like I'm treading water, barely keeping myself afloat while life keeps trying to pull me under. When I'm so exhausted I can't go any farther, I look around for the first time and realize I know where I am.

I'm not sure if I had this in mind when I left the house or if it's just a weird coincidence. I cross the road, ignoring the pain in my legs from overdoing it. It's been so long since I've been here that my memories are a little fuzzy. Even so, it doesn't take me long to find my way through the trailer park to the place I used to call home.

It's… pretty. I never thought I'd say that about this place. In my head, it was always dark and scary, maybe because my safe space was also my prison.

Now that the monster's gone, so is the glamour that tricked me. Now I see the flowers someone has planted outside, the fresh coat of paint, and the swept pathway that's free of broken bottles and discarded needles.

The screen door opens, and a woman in her early thirties steps out, a wary look on her face.

"Can I help you?"

I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I was just in the area." I swallow, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling as lost now as I did when I lived here.

"Are you okay?" She takes a step closer, her wariness morphing into concern.

"I used to live here."

She pauses, her concern giving way to understanding. "Would you like to come inside for a drink?"

I hesitate, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable.

She steps closer. "I'm Chloe." She holds out her hand to me.

"Starling." I take her hand and shake it.

"So, a drink? I have coffee, tea, water, milk?—"

I smile as she rambles. "Water would be good."

She motions for me to follow her. Stepping inside, I take everything in as she holds the door open for me. It's changed so much. She leads me into the kitchen area, which is now a bright, sunny yellow and a world away from the original nicotine-stained off-white from my memories. She pours me a glass of water as I sit at the whitewashed four-seater table with a vase of sunflowers in the center.

"How long have you lived here?"

"About two years now."

I nod, looking at the lace curtains on the window. "You've made it look so pretty. I can barely recognize it."

"Thank you. It was… a bit of a mess when I first moved in, but it just needed a couple coats of paint."

I look at the drawing on the fridge of a tall stick figure holding hands with a smaller one.

"No. It just needed love. That's what this place was missing before."

She opens her mouth to say something when a little girl of maybe seven or eight with inky black hair and a huge smile comes running into the room.

"Mom, can I have some Robux, please? Cause I'm the best daughter in the world, and you love me the mostest." She bats her eyelashes, making me snort.

She spins around, just noticing me.

"Don't mind my daughter. When she grows up, she's either going to be a lawyer or a politician."

"Hi, I'm Raven. You're pretty."

I smile. "You're really pretty too. I like your name. I'm named after a bird too. My name is Starling."

Her eyes go wide before she turns to her mom. "Like the ones on your wall?"

I look at Chloe, who looks uncomfortable for a second.

She notices my confusion and blushes. "It just seemed wrong to paint over them."

I frown. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Now it's her turn to frown. She stands up and takes Raven's hand. "Let me show you."

I follow behind her. Everything looks the same, yet so different. In my memories, everything seemed so much bigger.

We walk past the room that used to be mine. I look at the plaque on the door with Raven's name on it, but I don't stop. I have no desire to see inside. Nothing good ever happened in that room.

Chloe takes me into the main bedroom and points at the wall on the far left of the room. My hand covers my mouth as I step closer to get a better look. The whole wall is covered with starlings in flight.

I don't realize I'm crying until Raven appears beside me with a tissue in her hand. I take it from her and whisper my thanks, and Chloe sends her off to play with the promise of Robux later if she doesn't argue.

Once she's gone, Chloe steps up beside me. "You've never seen this before?"

I shake my head.

"It was underneath the wallpaper when I scraped it off. I couldn't believe someone covered it up."

"My mother was an artist, but she never got to do it professionally before she got pregnant with me."

"Speaking as a mom, I can guarantee she never blamed you for that."

"She didn't get the chance to. My birth was traumatic for both of us. I struggled. Failure to thrive, they called it. My mom held on long enough to know I was going to live before she passed away in her sleep.

"She named me Starling the day before she died. It means unity and community. She knew she wasn't going to make it, and with no family left, she knew it would take a village to raise me."

"That's tragic and beautiful. Looking at this, though, I'd say she was always going to name you Starling. She clearly loved you before she even held you."

I look at her and offer her a smile. "Thank you."

She looks around and bites her lip. "You said she had no family, so how did you end up living here if she was gone?"

The smile slips from my face. "She had an uncle, one she had nothing to do with after she turned eighteen."

She reaches out and surprises me by squeezing my hand. "He took you in?"

I offer her a single nod.

She hesitates before asking quietly, "Was he good to you?"

I want to lie. I think she'd sleep better if I did, but the secrets are like scar tissue inside me, causing more harm than good. What does it even matter anymore?

"My mom left home because he liked her a little too much. And I know because he liked me a little too much, too."

She covers her mouth with her free hand. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. He can't hurt me anymore." I don't tell her he was just one of many. She seems nice. I don't want her to think about the monsters that once stalked through this place.

"What about your dad?"

"That's a much longer story. And I'm not sure I have it in me today. It's been a really long week."

"It's only Wednesday."

"I know. I should go."

I turn to leave, but she tightens her hold on my hand.

"Can I help?"

"That's sweet, Chloe, but I'm not sure anyone can help me now."

"Please?"

"Why would you want to?"

"I'm her," she whispers.

I frown as she waves her hand at the wall.

"Raven's you, and I'm your mom if she never died. I guess I feel like I stole a part of you somehow. Like, we're living the life you should have."

I shake my head. "Is it weird that I like that, knowing that in another life everything turned out differently?" I squeeze her hand and pull free. "I have to go but thank you."

"I didn't do anything."

"You gave me back my mom, and you painted over my memories of this place with pretty flower beds and a sunny kitchen."

She swallows hard, tears glistening in her eyes. A loud "Mom, I'm hungry" echoes through the trailer, making her sigh and me chuckle.

"The queen has spoken. I'd better feed her before she turns into a dragon. It was an honor to meet you, Starling."

I look at the wall one last time, then back to the woman who kept my mother alive in a way nobody else ever could. "The honor was all mine."