Page 51 of Borrowed
She sank to her knees like a child in confession, and I stepped behind her.My fingers gently pushed her hair forward.
Reverent.
Tender.
“I used to watch you from the hallway,” I said.“Loving Toby.Crying after.You never let me interrupt.He said your love is pain.”
She gasped.“But I—you didn’t?—”
“Don’t lie,” I said.“God’s listening.”
Toby pressed his palm to my back.“Now.”
I lifted the cross.
Not to strike her.
Not yet.
Just to remind her where we were.
“You brought me here to save me,” I whispered.
She turned, her eyes wide.“I was trying?—”
“No.”I leaned in, brushing her ear with my breath.“You wanted to erase me.Like you did to Toby.”
She was right where she belonged.
At the altar.
Face to face with her creator.
* * *
She stayedon her knees like a believer.But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
I stepped around her, slow.The cross dragged against the marble, gentle as a corpse.
Toby moved beside me.
Quiet.
Patient.
He didn’t have to say anything.
I already knew what he wanted.
“You prayed to God when you loved him,” I said.“Will you talk to him with me?”
She sobbed.“Please, you don’t understand.You have to stop…Please, God, save me from this child of mine!”
I waited, letting the silent answer curl around her.
“Sorry, Mother.Just like you ignored our screams,” I leaned down, fingers curling under her chin, forcing her to look at me.“Your God is ignoring you now.”
I gripped the cross so hard it prickled my skin, and Toby smiled.
