Lilly wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she woke up to find herself back in the attic of Blackwood Manor, but the window silhouette slowly made its way along the brick wall as morning turned to afternoon, then evening, night, and morning again. A deep but fragile sleep kept her mind from further torture, but it only protected her for short periods. Every few hours, she startled awake, coughing and instantly assaulted with the knowledge that Cole was dead, Momma had taken Phoebe, and she was trapped in the attic again. Every time she opened her eyes and remembered where she was and why, a sudden avalanche of grief and anger threatened to crush her. But she had to hold on for her daughter.
In between periods of exhausted oblivion, she used every ounce of strength she had left to try moving her legs, willing her brain to make them work. If she could get out of bed, she could hit Momma over the head, escape, and get Phoebe back. She tried lifting her thighs with her hands and a brutal twist of pain ripped through her middle. Beads of sweat dripped from her face. After every attempt, she fell back on the bed, drained and delirious with despair. She was still burning with fever, her lips were parched, her sheets were soiled and rank, and she was growing weaker by the hour.
“Please, God,” she whispered. “Please. If you’re there, I need you now more than ever.”
But it was no use. Her legs were dead and lifeless.
No one brought her water or food, and she was beginning to think Momma was going to let her starve. How it was possible that her lungs still drew in air and her shattered heart was still beating? Agony nearly swallowed her.
A few hours after the sun came up, a key rattled in the lock and the door opened. Phoebe toddled into the room, one finger in her cupid-bow mouth, her tiny brow creased with uncertainty. Lilly cried out and reached for her with trembling hands.
“Come here, baby girl,” she said, tears flooding her eyes.
When Phoebe saw Lilly, her face lit up and she waddled over to the bed on chubby legs. Using what little strength she had left, Lilly lifted her up, ignoring the horrific pain in her stomach and back, and settled her on a clean section of blanket between her and the wall. She kissed her forehead and cheeks and mouth, drinking in the warm, sweet smell of baby skin and wispy hair. Phoebe looked healthy, clean, and well-fed. At least her parents were taking good care of her.
“I missed you so much,” Lilly said to her. “And I love you more than anything in the world. Did you miss me, sweet pea?”
Phoebe grinned and Lilly pushed a stray lock of hair behind her small pink ear. Without looking, she knew her father was watching from the doorway.
“Aren’t you worried about getting caught?” she said.
“Your mother is taking a nap.”
“She’s not my mother,” Lilly said. She looked over at him. “And you’re not my father.”
He was carrying a tray, with food and a jug of water. Gray hair covered his head, and his tanned face resembled cracked leather. He looked like he had aged ten years since the day he came into The Albino Medium tent. Still, the remnants of a younger, handsomer man lingered in his strong jawline and rainwater blue eyes. He moved closer and set the tray on her bedside table.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a miserable voice. “For everything.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“I still need to say it.”
He poured water into a mug and held it out to her. She struggled to sit up and he held the mug to her lips. She took a sip and nearly choked, sputtering and holding a hand to her mouth. Phoebe watched with worried eyes. When she stopped coughing, Lilly took a few more sips, then lay back down again, too weak to hold herself up any longer. Her father picked up half a sandwich from the tray and held it out to her.
She shook her head. “Not now.” Phoebe snuggled in the crook of Lilly’s arm and put her head on her shoulder. Lilly stroked her soft cheek and, keeping her eyes on her daughter, said to her father, “I just want to know one thing. Why did you let her do it?”
“I was out of town, remember? I didn’t know you were gone until I came back. By then, it was too late.”
“I’m not talking about selling me to the circus. I want to know why you let her lock me up in the first place. There was nothing wrong with me. My skin was different, that’s all.” She turned to see his reaction.
He leaned against the wall near the foot of her bed, pain and something that looked like shame lining his face. “I had no choice.”
“Everyone has a choice.”
“You don’t understand. Your mother and I had been praying for you for years.”
Tears blurred her vision. “Stop lying to me. I want the truth. You owe me that.”
“It is the truth. Coralline was desperate to be a mother. And after her eighth miscarriage, she said she would have sold her soul to the devil to have a baby. We both know how hard it was for her to say that. When she found out she was four months along with you, she knew her prayers had finally been answered.”
“Until she saw me.”
He took a deep breath and sighed, his shoulders sagging as if telling the truth was the hardest thing he had ever done. It crossed her mind to point out that his suffering was nothing compared to what she had been through, was still going through, but she kept quiet. She was too exhausted to have that discussion. The only thing she needed to know was why. She gazed at Phoebe, who had fallen asleep next to her.
“It wasn’t that simple,” he said. “Your mother went into labor in the middle of a terrible storm. Roads were flooded, bridges had been washed out, and she was beside herself because we couldn’t get to the hospital and the doctor couldn’t come to us. She gave birth alone in our bedroom, refusing any help from me. Her labor went on all day and into the night, and when she stopped screaming I thought I’d lost her. All I could hear was you, wailing on the other side of the locked door. I was getting ready to break it down when she finally let me in and collapsed on the bed next to your bassinet. Her nightgown and the sheets were covered in blood, and she was white as a ghost. I thought she was dying. Then she looked at me with bloodshot eyes and said, “We have to get rid of it.”
Lilly’s lip trembled. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“You don’t understand. She thought she was being punished.”
“For what?”
“For saying she’d make a deal with the devil.”
“So she locked me in the attic.”
He shook his head. “No, I did.”
For a second, Lilly stopped breathing. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All this time, she had blamed Momma for everything. All this time, she thought her mother hated her and her father was a spineless coward. “Why?” she managed.
“She wanted me to take you into the woods and leave you there.”