"I'm sure he didn't feel it."
"But he did. He did. They brought him home covered in dirt and dried blood. Filthy and cold. But there were clean streaks on his face. I know he cried, because those were the paths the tears had traced through the blood, where he'd lain on that hard road and cried. For me."
"Emma. No."
"I know just what he sounded like. I can hear it. He wanted me to make it better, Hart, as I always had before. And I don't know how long he cried, and sometimes I want to die too."
"Shh," he murmured, as she sobbed into his heart. "Shh. You loved him. You gave him something good in his life. It wasn't your fault."
"I knew what would happen."
"You were a child. Oh, Emma, you were just a child. I'm so sorry."
She cried for her brother, for all of her family who'd died. Even for Matthew. And Hart held her and stroked her back and whispered wordless murmurs into her hair.
When she finally quieted, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I remember you, you know. In that hallway, in your nightdress and long braids. You were very brave and bright, and you did not deserve to be in that home. I'm sorry I did nothing about it."
She breathed a watery sigh, so relieved that he recalled that night, as if he made that little girl real. That child who'd thought she could save them all if only she could take enough care. That girl who hadn't yet lost everything dear to her heart. "There was nothing you could've done. He was my father, if by blood alone."
His hand rubbed soft circles, over and over. "I had another sister. Before Alex."
Emma nodded, rubbing her cheek against his wet shirt.
"She died just after her first birthday. Nobody told me what happened. One day she was there, toddling around, laughing at me, chewing all my toys. Two days later the nursery was empty. I thought maybe a monster had come and stolen her away. The silence was the worst thing, sitting in my bedroom on the third floor, listening for her cry in the morning."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, tearing up again. Was the world like this for everyone? "You're afraid to have a child." She didn't answer. Couldn't.
"When Alex was born I wouldn't go near her. I hurried past the nur
sery, ignoring all the toys and laughter. I was terrified of her, angry every time she smiled at me."
"What happened?"
His soft huff of laughter vibrated against her ear. "Alex happened. She started walking, then running. Whenever I was home from school, she'd chase me to my room. Then she learned how to turn the knob. I was cornered, trapped. And that was the end of me. I fell under her spell."
"But she lived. She was fine."
"Oh, yes, she lived. And she continually scared the hell out of me. Broke my heart a couple of times. Drove me mad. Infuriated me." He paused. "You two would get along splendidly."
Emma was surprised at her hiccup of laughter. Just a few minutes ago, she'd felt as if she'd never laugh again. Now she felt only tired. Exhausted actually. And Hart was twirling her hair around his fingers, the feeling so strange and lovely that she closed her eyes.
"I don't want you to love me," she whispered. "I don't know how to love you. Especially you."
"I know." He kissed her head again. Wound his finger round and round. "But you'll learn. We'll both learn."
"I don't think we should. You will destroy me."
"Emma, you made my worst fears come true. Do you understand that? No, you couldn't."
"I embarrassed you, just like that woman."
His pulse sped a little, but he shook his head. "That woman, as you say, embarrassed me and broke my heart. She made a fool of me. Just as you have."
"I'm sorry."
"I thought I loved her, but I didn't. I would have recovered. She was just an illusion."
"Like me."