Esme
Sometime later, the bathroom door opens.
Aracelia peers down at me. “Esme,” she says softly.
I look up from where I’m curled in the tiled corner. “Is he okay?”
Her tone is neutral. “I managed to stop the bleeding and bandage him up. His color has improved a little.”
I bite my lip to stop from crying. “I… I… thank you,” I stammer. “How long have I been in here for?”
Aracelia steps the rest of the way into the bathroom with me. “Almost an hour and a half.”
“Oh.”
She kneels down in front of me, her eyes alight with sympathy. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom. As I emerge, I see Artem lying flat on the dining room table. I break away from Aracelia and float towards him.
She has done an amazing job. She’s stripped away his clothes, wiped him down, and washed away all the blood and grime. His body looks clean, almost pristine, except for the bandages that cover his arms and stomach and the soft blue towel she’s drawn over his waist.
I smell a strong, peppery scent coming from the bandage around Artem’s stomach and I notice that a rub has been applied to the wound before the bandages were put on.
“It’s a special poultice,” Aracelia tells me before I can ask. “All-natural, but they have amazing healing properties.”
I nod, unwilling to question her. In any case, he looks much better than he did when I first found him. That awful, rattling groan has quieted to a gentle inhale and exhale.
“I know I’ve put you in a compromising situation,” I tell her. “I’m sorry for that.”
She sighs. “I was hoping what I saw in your tea leaves was wrong.”
I blink back fresh tears. “Apparently, I’m not that lucky.”
“No, but you are strong,” Aracelia tells me. “Strong enough to live through this.”
You are strong.
Cesar had told me the same thing a lifetime ago, before I had believed in my own strength.
“Come now,” Aracelia prods gently. “You need a good soak in the tub and after you’re done, it’s important you eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat, Esme. For you child.”
I nod slowly, reluctantly, and follow her into her bedroom. The floral patterns are overwhelming but they help soothe me somehow.
They’re simple. Pretty. Innocent.
A stark contrast to the world I’ve been incapsulated in for far too long.
“Go on,” she encourages me. “I’ll set some fresh clothes for you on the bed.”
I walk into the bathroom, dazed, to find that the tub is filled with steaming water. After I strip down, I get into the tub and let the water sooth my aching body. I run my hands over my stomach and watch as my baby moves inside me.
It’s just you and me, little bird.
Something about that idle thought catches. It snags on the corner of a harsh realization. A growing realization.