Chapter 4
Tya flinched as she heard Noah’s whispered words through her mirror of souls. Who was she? What was she? She was . . . Lady Death. Watching over, who? What? A potential . . . what? Why her unwavering interest in this boy, since the moment of his difficult birth? What was it about him that held so much of her attention? Was it because of his past? His future? Was he meant to suffer a horrendous death? Would he cause horrifying pain and death? She shook her head. Not Noah. Not her Noah.
She was shocked by her last thought. When did she begin to think of him as hers?
“Tyanina, what is it about this boy that fascinates you so?” A voice sounded in her Mirror room, asking out loud what she’d been wondering in her head.
She turned to the voice. “I don’t know, Papa. There’s just something about him . . . Was it ever like this for you when you were Death?”
Her father’s expression softened. “Yes, once. I felt your mother’s birth, you know. Much like you did with Noah. She didn’t have an easy life, did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t. I once asked Mama how you two met. She told me you saved her life.”
“In a way, I guess I did. When she was mortal, she married a man who in appearance seemed good. But soon after their wedding day, he started beating her, regularly. Then she became pregnant and she thought that he wouldn’t beat her anymore, or at least until the baby was born. But one night he came home from work and supper wasn’t ready. It wasn’t her fault; he had arrived earlier than usual. He became furious and he beat her; worse than usual. He even punched and kicked her in the stomach.” Dreico shivered violently at the thought. “Laila tried protecting her baby but it was useless; it died within her. She began bleeding from her stomach. Her husband laughed. Told her it was for the best, she would have made a horrible mother. Told her to get lazy ass up and make his meal. Now.” Dreico had a faraway look in his eye. “I remember slipping into her mind at that time. Let’s just say that with thoughts like hers, she deserved to become Queen of the Underworld.” A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “She got up, painfully, headed for the kitchen and snagged a knife. Then she walked over to her husband and, without hesitation, plunged the knife into his back. She caught a nerve; he couldn’t move. She had paralysed him. But she kept stabbing him and screamed like a banshee. She stabbed him 46 times, Tya,” he whispered the last words, connected gazes with his daughter’s.
“And then what?”
“Neighbours who had heard the commotion rushed over. Laileena knew what would happen to her; she’d be executed. In those times, you had to put up with whatever your husband dished out because after all, you were his property. Murdering your husband was the highest offense. So she turned the knife on herself. She died instantly, I made sure she would feel no pain.”
“Her suicide landed her here, in Hell.”
“Of course.”
Because suicides weren’t considered a natural cause of death, anyone who committed the act ended up in Hell. There was a special place for them here, some sort of Paradise, although not with the same benefits. Dreico had arranged it when he took up residence in the underworld. Yes, the ‘sinners’ had committed murder, but against themselves. And no, they weren’t dead by natural causes. But, in most cases, suicide was the only option, as in Tya’s mother’s case. It was either be executed painfully, or kill themselves and get it over with. Dreico hadn’t thought the suicides should take up residence with the real Sinners; the rapists and killers, thieves and so on.
“When she arrived here, I found I was unable to judge her. I couldn’t. You see, I was in love with her and she had suffered so much. I gave her a room in my house. There, her soul healed and she recuperated. One day she asked me why everyone was so afraid of the Underworld, to her it was wonderful. That’s when I realised she thought she had been judged.” He smiled. “One day, I brought her into the courtroom with me. There was a Sinner I had delayed in judging: Oliver, her husband. I asked her in what way she would punish him if it were up to her. She told me she would condemn him to feel the same pain she felt while he beat her and killed their child, but he would feel it ten-fold. I made that happen for her.” His voice was hard as steel.
“I had no idea,” Tya whispered, thinking of the hardships her mother had endured.
“It isn’t something she liked to speak about, but now you know.”
“Suicide seemed to be a regular occurrence with her,” Tya said bitterly.
“Do not judge her too harshly, Tyanina. Surely you must realise that if she’s committed this act a second time, thereby killing her own soul, she felt she had no other options, like the first time.”
Tears filling her eyes, Tya stared up at her father. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so unkind. I miss her so much, Papa. I wish I could tell her I love her one more time.”
“So do I, my child. So do I,” Dreico’s voice broke on his whispered words as he pulled his daughter into his embrace, as much to comfort her as to be comforted.
As they held each other, Tya’s mind wandered. Why was it that her mother had stabbed her
husband forty-six times? Because she was grieving for the baby she had just lost? Because she had been struck one too many times? Or was it for some other reason? Had she been unhappy in life and had unconsciously found a way out? What had her past been like? Had her parents forced her to marry Oliver? Would she had gone and killed her parents if she hadn’t killed herself first? Tya shivered as her thoughts lead her in a direction she had never thought of going, not concerning her mother anyway.
Tya pulled back from her father and watched him leave, his head held high, and for one awful moment she wondered whether her father had ever been afraid his wife would go after him with a knife.
* * *
“No, I won’t go through this again,” Noah said firmly.
“Won’t you at least meet her first?”
“And take the chance I’ll like her? No, thank you.” He turned from the Price’s and headed for the door.
“Noah . . .”
“You said it was my choice, didn’t you Mr. Price?”
The orphanage owner nodded. “I did, Noah. Thank you for reminding me. I would have like you to at least meet Mildred, but I completely understand your reticence.
For the first time in his life, Noah almost snorted. That would have been quite disrespectful and that was why he didn’t do it. Reticence indeed. He’d been back to the orphanage for almost a year now and now the Price’s were trying to have him adopted again. Noah shook his head as he reached for the door handle. No way. Not again. He’d wait it out at this orphanage until he became of legal age and then he would leave and make a living for himself. He was never putting himself in the position of hoping for a loving, normal family and being disappointed again. It still hurt him raw that Nelson never came to pay him a visit . . .
Noah froze as he suddenly pondered why the Price’s were trying to have him adopted. Was it because he was a nuisance? He didn’t think so; he got along great with the other kids, even the girls. Was he allowed to stay until he turned eighteen? Was he a financial burden to them? Did it pain them to keep him? Had they held on this long because of his friendship to Cole? Maybe they felt –Cameron Price especially- that they owed Cole because of what had happened with his brothers. Noah shook his head briefly. No, they would tell him if they wanted him gone, he had to keep reminding himself of that.
He opened the door with more force than he had intended and it smashed against the wall. An elderly woman, who was sitting on a chair facing the study door, jumped up and looked around, bewildered. Finally, her gaze settled on Noah. Her clear blue eyes fastened on his and he froze to the spot, paralysed by the gentleness he found there.
“You must be Noah,” she said softly. It wasn’t a question. He didn’t reply. “I’m Mildred. I’m the one who wants to adopt you.”
“Don’t you mean you might want to adopt after a trial period?” he demanded, breaking the spell she seemed to be weaving on him.
“No, child. I want to adopt you, that is, if you’ll have me.” She sat down wearily and he automatically took a concerned step toward her then stopped, frowning.
“Mr. Price told me it was my decision whether to meet you or not. You being here doesn’t really give me a choice now does it?”
She chuckled briefly then studied him sombrely. “If I told you I felt . . .” She shook her head. “This is going to sound ridiculous.”
“No, what?” He took another step toward her.
She hesitated. “What if I told you I had a feeling I absolutely had to be here when the door to that study would open and you’d walk out?”
A shiver of anticipation crawled up and down the boy’s spine. He studied the old woman and sensed she was telling the truth and also sensed that he and she were meant to meet.
Slowly, he walked over to the chair beside her and took a seat. Then he glanced at her, really seeing her for the first time. Her clothes looked expensive and her face was smooth and unlined; a sign that she had not led a harried life. Her white hair was short but well kept and her eyes were a pale, wise blue. He opened himself up completely to her, something he’d never done before, something he hadn’t even known he could do, but it felt right. Truth and honesty poured of out of her every pore. But what he sensed the strongest, as if she were wearing perfume, was her gentleness and loneliness.
“Why do you want to adopt me?” he asked her more calmly. “You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve been a widow for the past year now, Noah. My husband became very ill and he died, leaving me alone. We were unable to have children.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Noah whispered.
She shrugged delicately. “At least he is at peace.” She turned to the boy. “I began thinking of adoption a few months back and I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. You see, we couldn’t have any children. It’s my fault; I am barren. We desperately wanted to have children and I had considered adoption but my husband didn’t want. If he couldn’t have his own child, he didn’t want someone else’s.” Noah flinched but she didn’t notice; she was loss in thought. “When he died, I mourned him but decided I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I’ve decided to adopt. You were strongly recommended by Cam- Mr. Price.”
Noah frowned. “Why me? I have a friend, Cole, he’d love to-”
“Noah,” Mildred said gently, “It’s not Cole I want; it’s you. I’m looking for a child, not a baby, one capable of taking care of himself. Someone who has an independent streak. Someone who needs to be cared for and who can also care for someone. You see, because I don’t have much experience with children, I need one who will speak up for himself and not keep quiet. I must know what he or she needs, I simply can’t guess, I wouldn’t know where to begin! Mr. Price has assured me you are who I am looking for. But the decision remains yours, Noah.” She laid a gentle hand on his. He looked up and met her direct gaze. “I want you to understand that if you agree to this, it will not be a trial period. You will be my son and, if you agree, you will wear my name. Stanhope.” She fell quiet and removed her hand. She seemed to instinctively understand he needed some space. He needed to think.
If he agreed, he would have a name! Stanhope! A nice strong name, yes? He would probably have his own room and his own things. And his own name. She would adopt him, without any trial period. But what if she changed her mind? What if she didn’t want him anymore? She’d never had children and he didn’t have much experience in being someone’s child. What if they weren’t compatible? What then? Could she dis-adopt him? Was there even a word for that? As he juggled with these questions in his mind, he glanced up and locked gazes with the older woman. Her loneliness called to him, so like his own. Yes, he had Cole, but it wasn’t the same as belonging somewhere, as having a family. Then he remembered her words: ‘”What if I told you I had a feeling I absolutely had to be here when the door to that study would open and you’d walk out?”’ A distant memory, one of a year ago, also came to mind. “Everything happens for a reason, Noah.” The voice in his head had said, following Miranda’s death.
And suddenly, he knew. He must go with her. Be her family. Be her child. He held out a hand to her. “Hi. My name is Noah. Noah Stanhope.”
The woman’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. She shook his hand briefly. “Hi Noah. My name is Mildred. Please, call me Millie.”
She lifted herself from her chair and then held a hand out to him which he took as they both head into the study.
Another good segment. You seem to be warming up to your writing style now, and getting comfortable with the story.