My breath catches at Athena’s question, and I brace for Peony’s reaction.
She peers up at me shyly. There’s no indication, no warning sign she’s about to have an epic meltdown, like I’ve witnessed more times than I care to admit. This time, she seems almost…eager. “Bed.”
“Wanna fly there like a bird?” I ask. That gets me a rapid nod.
I lift her above my head and carry her to her room. Peony is flyingbackward, giggling, with Poppy dangling from one of her hands. She calls out, “Whee!” like she did at the playground almost two weeks ago, when we were there with Zara.
Shit. I’ll miss her this weekend while I’m away with the army veterans.
Between that and my deadline and the increase in social media I’ll have to do for my upcoming release, I worry my progress with Peony might stop moving forward—and might even take several steps back.
And I have no idea how to prevent that from happening.
“Birdie and Poppy coming in for a landing.” I make abrrrrengine noise as I swoop Peony toward her bed.
I lay her on the mattress and pull the bedding to her chin. “Good night, little flower.” I boop her on the nose. This makes her giggle some more. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, probably before you’re up. But I’ll see you Sunday night.” I boop her once more on the nose and give her panda a pat on the head.
Frightened sobs ripme away from the scene I’ve been writing nonstop for three hours and tear at my heart.
I put the laptop on my desk and rush from the room. The sound is coming from Peony’s bedroom. Her door is open and the soft glow of her nightlight barely illuminates past the threshold onto the wood flooring.
A softly spoken voice stretches from the doorway, Athena’s words too quiet to make out. Whatever she’s saying seems to do the trick. Peony’s sobs aren’t as loud now, but that doesn’t stop my feet from moving to the bedroom.
Usually, I don’t do anything when Peony wakes from a bad dream. I let Athena go to her and do what she can to make things better. But I’d be a fool, now that Peony is slowly accepting me, to not try to chase away her fears and comfort her.
Peony is sitting on Athena’s lap, safe in her arms, and sobbing against her chest.
“What happened?” I gentle my tone, strengthen my resolve not to let her tears send me running this time.
Peony turns her head at the sound of my voice, spots me in the doorway, and releases a soul-crushing scream, pitched almost high enough to shatter windows.
A scream that seems to go on forever.
“Turn the light on,” Athena hurriedly says, concern and panic hovering beneath the surface. “She doesn’t know it’s you.”
I flick on the overhead light. The bright glow floods the room, chases away the shadows.
“Look, Peony. It’s your daddy.” Athena keeps rocking Peony in her arms. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
Her words aren’t enough to calm Peony. I’m not even sure she can hear them over her strained screams.
“Shhh, baby girl.” Athena hums a song I don’t recognize, but it appears to have a calming effect on Peony. Her screams fade by slow, sobbing increments. “It’s just your daddy. He won’t hurt you.”
“You’re safe here, little flower.” I walk farther into the room. Her face is still buried in Athena’s chest. She doesn’t turn to look at me.
I crouch at the end of the bed. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe.”
When I was little, the possibility that monsters lived under my bed was very real. My father would come in my room each night and shine a flashlight under the bed and in the closet and chase them away. Something tells me it won’t be as simple as that with Peony.
“I promise you’re safe.” Careful not to further scare her but also needing to reassure her, I place my hand on her back. Her little body stiffens briefly under my touch.
Her eyes meet mine, and her tear-soaked features morph into relief.
“I have a security alarm to keep out the scary people and monsters.” As well as stalkers who become fixated on me—the reason I got the system after the one time.
I don’t know how much of what I’m telling her Peony understands, but I keep talking, voice low, tone soothing. Maybe just hearing me will be enough to reassure her she’s safe from whatever haunts her dreams.
I pat Poppy’s head with my finger. She’s squished between Peony and Athena. Only the top of the panda’s head is visible. “You and Poppy are safe. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
