1. Olivia

Chapter one

Olivia

Thirteen Years Old

I force myself not to fidget as I stare straight ahead at the casket. My throat tightens and I squeeze my eyes shut. Mom doesn’t like closed spaces. “She won’t be in there, child.” Ruth’s voice echoes through my mind.

She’s not there. She’s not there. I repeat to myself. It doesn’t stop the ache in my chest or the hollow pit in my stomach. I clench my fists as I imagine throwing myself to the ground and screaming. Instead, I take a deep breath, loosen my hands, and open my eyes.

I’m an orphan. Where am I going to go? It’s the same question I’ve been asking myself the past couple of days, but have been too afraid to ask. Maybe Victor will take me in. He is my godfather. Isn’t that part of the deal? Even if he hasn’t been around much lately.

My eyes shift upward to look at the profile of my stepfather, Donovan. Will he keep me? I’m not sure if he even likes me since he ignores me the majority of the time.

A raindrop falls on my cheek and I blink up at the dark clouds rolling in. My nanny, Ruth, lifts the umbrella she brought and opens it. She wraps her arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close to her and protecting me from the rain. I wish she wouldn’t. I want to lift my face to the clouds and allow the rain to soak me through.

There’s a rumble of thunder. It’s like the earth knew I wanted to scream and it’s doing it for me. The priest says his final words and people begin to make their way towards the line of cars. Probably trying to avoid the downpour that’s sure to start any minute now. I don’t move though and no one pushes me to move, but I’m guessing everyone else leaves except for us to avoid getting drenched.

Some men step up to the casket and glance at us. I look up at my stepfather again, and he gives them a slight nod. They remove the wooden pieces from under her casket and slowly lower it into the ground.

I want to tell them to stop. I want to jump in and be buried with her. But I don’t do any of those things. Instead, I watch as they lower my mother into the ground in a beautiful casket that she wouldn’t have picked out for herself. My eyes and throat burn, but still I watch until I can no longer see the casket.

Puddles are forming at our feet as the rain increases. The wind shifts, causing the rain to begin hitting us from the side. Ruth shifts at my side and I know I’m going to be made to leave soon.

Victor kneels in front of me, not bothering with an umbrella. I’m surprised he’s still here. I thought it was Ruth, Donovan, and me that were left. He’s drenched from the rain, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Olivia?” His voice comes out soft and comforting. I stare at him, blinking back the tears that are ready to fall. Another rumble of thunder sounds indicating the storm is directly over us. I feel everyone’s eyes on me, but I focus on Victor.

“She’s not coming back.” I whisper so low I’m not sure if he heard me. I’m not sure why I’m telling him this, but something inside me knows he’s safe. He tilts his head and his eyes soften, so maybe he did. He glances up at Donovan, who has moved closer to me. I glance up at him as well and the look in his eyes makes the hole in my stomach grow even larger. I look back at Victor.

“Where will I go?” I ask. Donovan squats down beside Victor, his umbrella covering them both.

“My sweet, sweet Olivia. You’ll stay with me, of course.” I swallow as I look between him and Victor. He’s never called me that before.

“Victor, can we go now?” Josie, Victor’s wife, asks. He scowls up at her, but she rolls her eyes. “I’m soaking wet and cold,” she complains.

“I told you to bring an umbrella. Go wait in the car. I’ll be there soon.” She huffs, but Victor ignores her and turns his attention back to me.

I close my eyes and fold my lips between my teeth, suddenly ready to get as far away from here as possible. “I’m ready to go,” I say to no one in particular.

Donovan pulls me into his arms and hugs me tight. It’s the first time he’s ever touched me or shown any kind of affection. When he stands, he lifts me with him, catching me by surprise.

“Mr. Castiel!” Ruth cries out, but he shushes her.

“She’s had an emotional week and day. I’m carrying her to the car.” Donovan sounds serious, so I wrap my arms around his neck and allow him to carry me to his fancy black car. His body heat warms me up. The driver opens the door for us and Donovan helps me inside. He sits next to me and Ruth sits next to him.

Victor leans in the open door, water dripping down his face. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Donovan, to check in on you two.” He doesn’t speak to me, but he offers me a sad smile.

Donovan gives him a nod and a wave. Then we’re headed home. I continue to keep my muscles rigid so I don’t fidget. The entire drive home, Donovan rubs circles on my knee with his thumb. It’s not relaxing. Not even a little.

I stare at the ceiling, wishing I was waking up to the smell of mom’s French toast. Sundays were our favorite days. We’d eat French toast, do a crossword puzzle together, and go for a drive to the lake. Sometimes we’d have a picnic. I swallow and turn on my side, trying to stop the onslaught of memories. What will life be like now?

Donovan was attentive yesterday after the funeral. I half expected him to go back to ignoring me, but he ate dinner with me and didn’t chastise me when I pushed my peas around on my plate. Ruth also seemed surprised and suspicious he stayed around. She was clearly unhappy about it. I don’t know why, though. He lost his wife. He’s mourning too.

Mom and Donovan were only married for a couple of years. Their marriage was nothing like mom’s was with dad. A smile lifts my lips at the memories of them dancing in the kitchen, the time we hid and attacked dad with water guns when he got home, and the times we went to the lake. Mom and I kept that tradition going. I suck in a deep breath. How will I go to the lake now?

There’s a knock on my door, so I close my eyes and pretend I’m still sleeping. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. My door opens and I focus on taking deep breaths. Footsteps draw close. They’re too heavy to be Ruth’s. My heartbeat increases waiting to find out who it is. No one comes into my room except Ruth and my mom.

My bed sinks when the person sits down. I’m having a hard time pretending to be asleep. My chest is tight and suddenly it feels hard to breathe. A hand runs over my head and through my long black hair.

“My sweet, sweet Olivia,” Donovan whispers.

I tense even more. Why is he here? What is he doing? Why does he keep calling me that? I shift and pretend like I’m waking up. My eyes flutter open and I gaze up at him. He doesn’t move. He stares at me with a look in his eyes that makes me feel sick. My heart beats heavy in my chest as I sit up and crawl backwards until my back hits the headboard. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, trying to put as much distance between us as I can.

“How are you feeling today?” His deep voice isn’t soothing like it was yesterday.

I swallow, trying to wet my dry throat and shrug. “I miss my mom,” I whisper. Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone so quickly I don’t know if I actually saw anything. Is he angry? He scoots closer to me and runs his finger from my shoulder to my wrist and back up. Is he trying to comfort me? My muscles are so tight my neck is beginning to ache. I glance toward the door. “Where’s Ruth?”

“I gave her the day off. She’s grieving too,” he answers. The hair lifts on my neck and arms. I lay my forehead on my knees, refusing to meet his eyes again and try to relax my muscles. I’m here alone with Donovan. Why does that scare me?

I’ve always felt like a burden to him. I’ve never feared him before, but something has shifted and I don’t know what it is. He runs his hand down my hair again and I have to fight not to recoil. The doorbell rings; it’s like music to my ears. A sigh of relief leaves my lungs as he stands.

“I don’t know who that is,” he snarls. I lift my head to look at him again. His nostrils flare as he glares down at me. I hug my knees tighter at his sudden change in demeanor. “Get dressed and come eat breakfast. I’ll go get the door.”

When he leaves my room, I release my knees and sag against the headboard. My arms and legs tingle as I suck in lungful after lungful of air. What was that? I can’t think of one time Donovan has ever come into my room besides the day my mom and I moved in. But, even then, I don’t think he actually stepped inside.

I push away from the headboard and turn, my feet dangling as I put myself together. Once I’m sure I can stand without fainting, I get up, quickly make my bed, and grab some jeans and a long sleeve shirt. I swallow, take a deep breath, and get dressed. One more glance around my room to make sure everything is in its place before I wipe my hands down my jeans and leave my room.

Walking down the long hallway to the stairs. It’s like walking the plank of a ship. Why? I never felt completely comfortable in this house, but with mom and Ruth here I was okay. My throat tightens and eyes burn. Because they’re my home and now one piece of that is gone forever.

Voices drift to me as I slowly go down the stairs, breaking me out of my dark thoughts. Victor’s low, rough voice causes my lungs to expand and I’m able to take a deep breath. It’s been a long time since he’s been over here.

I round the corner into the kitchen and throw myself into Victor’s arms. He wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight. Why does his embrace feel different from Donovan’s? I glance up at him, giving him a small smile. Heat travels up my neck and face, embarrassed by my outburst, but he returns my smile and doesn’t push me away, sympathy and sadness in his eyes.

“How are you doing today, Olivia?”

I step back and run my fingers through my hair, wishing I could hide behind it. I shrug slightly.

“I’m sad,” I admit.

Victor inhales slowly and drops a kiss on the top of my head. “I am too.”

That’s a normal response. The way Donovan reacted? It was odd. I want to hold on to Victor, but he steps back. I bite the inside of my cheek and turn to face Donovan. The lump in my throat settles in my stomach. His eyes are slits as he looks at Victor and me. He presses his lips together in a tight line. I take an unconscious step back. Before I can wonder why he looks like that, his expression changes and he smiles wide, making me question if I’m imagining things.

“I was just about to make Olivia and I some breakfast. Would you like some?”

I glance up at Victor, hoping he’ll stay.

“Sure,” Victor replies. “Why are you cooking? Where’s everyone?” Victor asks as he leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

I walk to the fridge, my hands shaking slightly as I open the door to grab the orange juice. Where is everyone? I wonder along with Victor. Donovan said he gave Ruth the day off, but he didn’t mention anyone else.

“I gave everyone the day off.”

I stick my head back out of the fridge and glance between Donovan and Victor. What the heck? “Everyone?” I ask.

The sensation of not being able to catch my breath overwhelms me again. I place the orange juice on the counter and am about to ask Victor if he’ll get a glass for me, but Donovan grabs one and hands it to me. I offer him a tight smile, but quickly turn away.

Why do I feel this way all of a sudden? Why is Donovan being so kind? I’ve never seen him be mean, but I can’t think of a time he’s ever given any of the staff a day off. I slowly pour the orange juice, making sure not to spill any.

“You gave everyone the day off?” Victor scoffs, giving Donovan a skeptical look. Donovan opens the fridge to grab the eggs and bacon.

“I can be nice,” he says. I roll my lips between my teeth. Can he? I can’t think of a time where he’s gone out of his way to be nice. He’s cold and hard to read, but maybe I don’t know him well enough to judge that part of his character. I mean, I’ve never seen him be mean either.

“Everyone is grieving Margaret’s death.” Donovan says as he cracks the egg. “I wasn’t going to make them work.”

I squeeze my eyes shut a moment before putting the top back on the orange juice. I didn’t think about everyone else and how they’d feel. Of course they’re all mourning. Everyone loved mom. Her kind soul and sweet demeanor. My lips tremble. I press them together to make them stop.

How did her brakes go out? It doesn’t make sense. Donovan always got the cars worked on regularly. How did this happen?