Page 78 of When Sinners Fear

If I look at it objectively, very little has changed since I left.

Except I feel like a stranger walking through my life.

For me, the once single-minded focus of my research doesn't drive me in the same way. It’s like I lost the passion in my heart for the subject I thought I was born to work in.

When facing the possibility of death, hearing Knox talk about the beach kept me hopeful. I’ve never been to a beach. And I promised myself I’d live. Even Knox told me that. Yet I’m barely surviving. And that’s in part because I’m more confused than ever.

Ten days after returning, I found the courage to go to the drugstore to buy a pregnancy kit. The instructions were simple, and, as instructed, I waited for three minutes after peeing on the stick. The lines appeared before the time was up, stark and vivid; they might as well have flashed in neon.

It was then that I got the call from Evie.

Mom had died that morning.

It was as if it were a sign – her life ending as I confirmed I carried a new one.

My whole life shifted, again, rocked by both pieces of news. Questions about my future started to spiral as I mourned with silent grief. I wanted to race home to be there for Evie and Matthew, but I was terrified that if I went, I’d never be able to leave. So, I distanced myself from everything I wanted and was afraid of owning up to, and forced myself to stay in Pasadena, supporting Evie by planning over the phone and ensuring she had everything needed. After all, it didn’t seem to matter to Dad that she was only a child. She would take care of things now as I wasn’t there as far as he was concerned.

I cried. The tears burned tracks into my skin as I remembered the cage around me and the time back there, and I thought of a man who tried to protect me through it. I missed the hope I’d clung to despite the horror. I missed the silent words we spoke together. I missed him in the middle of my own chaos.

The financial situation before I left meant that paying for Mom’s funeral and service wasn’t an option for my family. Mom’s care and medical costs were still being paid, so I used the remainder of the money in my accounts to cover any expenses – including a return flight for me.

My visit back for the funeral was fleeting, and Thanksgiving wasn’t something any of us wanted to mark. So close to Mom’s death it seemed impossible to see the positive.

Dad couldn’t look me in the eye when I returned. And I’m glad of it. I was terrified he’d be able to read the sins I’d committed in my face. I stood on the doorstep, and he treated me with such disdain it was hard to see him as the loving and caring father figure he was meant to be. He didn’t know what I’d done, but he had his own guilt and blame to deal with. And I didn’t want to face him, anyway. It was a mutually agreed-upon decision, even if neither of us wanted to voice words to explain it.

Evie, despite her young age, seemed to understand. She took everything in her stride. Her maturity, seemingly arriving overnight, terrified me and cast more guilt onto my already heavy shoulders. Her innocence and her unwavering good nature made me think about Knox, about all the horrific things he and his family did. Would Evie be the type of girl they took?

I couldn’t run anywhere to escape. It was like being back in my own cage, built with iron decisions, trapping me inside until I made a choice and knocked one down. Home was as painful as anywhere. Not just because of the lingering guilt and shame but being home brought a new hollow sickness with it. It was the remembrance of him I’d tried to move past, but it spread out and infected everything around me. The realisation that my feelings for Knox were still there invaded so deeply that everything seemed tainted by it.

The service was full of the congregation that Mom invested so much of her time with. I’m sure it was beautiful – just like her. I say that because I can’t recall any aspect of it. Father Michael’s words didn’t register. My mind was too busy fighting with the questions I had for him. Of course, I couldn’t say anything to him there. My mother’s funeral wouldn’t be the place to yell at him for exposing me to a monster. But seeing him there pushed all the memories I’d been trying to forget right back to the forefront of my mind.

Ignoring him would be the easiest.

Then I could ignore my feelings for Knox.

But that didn’t go my way either.

“Peyton. I’m so pleased to see you,” Father Michael said. “Although, I’m so sorry it’s under these circumstances. How are you coping?”

I smiled at his question. If he only knew the full story. “Are you still in touch with Knox?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

“I’m sorry?”

“Knox Cortez. You introduced me to him.” I tilted my head to the side. “You introduced me,” I repeated.

I don’t know if I was trying to convey anger, regret, or both, but it was like I wasn’t in control of the feelings that swelled inside of me, threatening to burst. If he could only understand what that first meeting had meant. What it set in motion.

He just nodded. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” He took my hand, but I tore it away and rushed past him to join Evie and Matthew.

If I could've stayed for Evie, I would have, but there was more to think of now. And, while it would be hard for her, she was strong enough. She greeted Mother’s friends and played the perfect daughter role well because she was perfect. It didn’t make leaving her any easier, but as the flight took off, something in my chest eased, and I decided that one of those iron bars wasn’t going to be my family.

And now I’m back where I once thought I always wanted to be. Only now, I’m also broke and pregnant.

There are so many thoughts – so many things to do it’s overwhelming. Those iron bars are closing in around me again, but I fight the ones I can and do the practical steps I have to to ensure the health of my baby. I make an appointment to visit the doctor to confirm the pregnancy and check what needs to happen next. There’s no question in my mind about not keeping it. If I could have decided that before, I’d have taken the pills. The bigger questions come when I start thinking about Knox. Will he want to be involved? How could he when he does what he does? How can I raise a child in a world like his? They might be questions I never need to answer because I’m not sure I even want to tell him. That would be the easiest solution, but it hurts my chest to think that.

Before making any firm decisions, I have to agree to going back to work. I’m behind, and my first meeting with my advisor wasn’t positive. That’s without the news of my impending maternity.

Mark, my previous advisor, had been awarded a new grant to look into nanopatterning for mechanical sensor applications. I’ve known Mark for several years, and we were comfortable with each other and understood the parameters of our roles. My new advisor, Simon, who has been assigned – strange given it’s our responsibility to find our own research advisors based on our mutual interests and fields of study – doesn’t seem to share any common ground. We have a follow-up meeting on Tuesday where I need to present my working hypothesis and the steps I’m taking in the final terms of this year to ensure I’ll be ready to defend my thesis. He already has doubts due to my failure to return from personal leave as agreed. He did make it clear that my failure will reflect poorly on him, and he isn’t prepared to accept that.