Savage Little Lies: Chapter 41

Sloane – age 6

Mommy and Daddy were arguing again.

They thought I was asleep.

I couldn’t sleep because my head hurt again. The doctor said it would hurt for a while.

“He’s going to be angry,” Daddy whispered. Mommy and Daddy’s room was on the other side of my wall. “How could you do this? Do this to her?”

“I did what I did for her,” Mommy said, crying. She didn’t speak for a while, sniffling. “I had to try, Godfrey. I love her.”

Daddy said nothing. Their room was so quiet.

“She’ll be worse off,” Daddy gasped. “When he finds out, she’ll be worse off.”

“He won’t.”

“He will, Marilyn. Doesn’t matter where he is. He has ears everywhere. He’ll find out what you tried to do.”

“How would he?” Mommy’s voice was shaking. “You’re not going to tell, and she can’t. Her recall has suffered. You heard the physician.”

Mommy was using big words, and I didn’t understand.

Daddy huffed. “And thank God for that. Thank God any memory of what you tried to do was left back there, but that won’t stop him. He’ll still have people question her.”

“So we run.”

“Run?” Daddy paused. “That’s not possible. You know him—”

My little brother Bruno’s voice caused me to blink, then sit up. He said Daddy’s name.

“I can’t sleep,” Bru whined.

“It’s okay, son. Come here.”

The room quieted, no more voices.

“I’m going to put him back to bed,” Daddy continued. “You’ve ruined us both.”

“Have I?” Mommy said. “At least I tried. At least I admit I have a heart. I do love her, and it doesn’t matter what you say, or how you act. You love her too, Godfrey. I’ve seen you with her.”

“I’m putting our son to bed. Or have you forgotten what’s fact?”

“I wished I could forget,” Mommy stated, her voice low. “I wish I could as easily as you.”

A door slammed, and I shook, frightened by it. It also hurt my head, and I touched it, the bandage soft under my fingers. The doctor said I’d heal soon, but that my head hurting would happen. He said that was normal, though.

It was normal after a fall.

I didn’t remember falling. Mommy and Daddy had told me about it. I’d just woken up with lots of doctors and a hurting head.

I wished it didn’t hurt now. I wished Mommy and Daddy didn’t fight. They kept fighting since I’d hurt myself.

This is my fault.

If I hadn’t fallen, Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t argue anymore. It started real bad after the fall.

I hugged my pillow, pinching at my wrist. My bracelet wasn’t there when I woke up in the hospital. I wondered if I’d left it there.

I wished I could find it.