Page 81 of Tears of Gold

“Yes.”

“You’re worried I’m not?” Her hesitation hangs between us, vibrating loudly in the silence.

“I don’t believe you would lie. But I think this is going to be harder than you think. Do you know anything about the prosecution procedures? Has Elijah explained anything to you?”

“He’s tried.”

“Let him try again. If you want a victory, Faith, and I want that so bad for you, then you have to know what will happen. Especially if the show is live before the trial takes place.”

“Shall we meet later this week?” I ask weakly.

“No can do, I’m in France on business. I’ll schedule with Laura. By the way, where did you get her from, she’s fabulous?”

“Hmm.” I’m exhausted, the conversation has eradicated what little energy I had. “See you next week.”

“Take care, feel better, and think about what I said. Your victory may come at a cost. What are you willing to pay?”

I hang up the call, her words running around my head. Victory. What is a victory? What does the ink I etched onto Eli’s skin even mean? What is a victory if you lose everything else in the process? Melanie Duncan lost her life. She would rather have died than heard the things people would say about her.

My hand slides onto my stomach. Victory at what price? I brush at stray tears with my free hand, unwilling to move my palm from the space above where my little surprise miracle is busy growing deep inside me.

I have to fight for the heart inside me, I have to beat as strong as it does.

Rolling over, my hand still in place, I curl into a ball and allow my exhaustion to wash me away.

I curl on the floor, my body shaking. Tears are running free, soaking onto the pale pink carpet. I’d loved to twirl over the carpet when it was first laid, 'pink for a princess' Dad had said, his face smiling, his eyes bright. He’d hugged me, squeezed me tight. “Always me and you, Faith, we don’t need anyone else.”

Now those days are gone, and the princess has been destroyed in ash.

I heave, begging my body to get up, to find a will to face what’s going on. But I can’t. He’s right, my body only does what I truly want. Deep down, the desires within me run uncontrolled. I need to be shown how to understand my body. I need to understand why it behaves the way it does.

It’s me. I’m sick and broken. Twisted and destroyed.

No girl should be like me. A demon not a princess.

There will be no prince to rescue me from a tower. Instead I shall languish in the cells of hell for all eternity.

But still my body betrays me, planting the devil deep within me.

Nothing can save me. Nothing.

I want to claw it out, stab me through until I bleed it all out on the floor.

It’s me. I’m wrong. Sick and broken. Twisted and destroyed.

I clutch at my stomach, willing the devil inside to leave me free. I pull at the bottle of vodka and twist at the cap, then with my knees in the carpet and my body shaking I drink, and I drink again until my screams are lost in vile vomit and dark shadows.

“Faith! Jesus, Faith, wake up!”

The room is almost dark, just a bedside lamp softly illuminating our large bedroom. Eli in just his suit trousers and a blue shirt rolled at the sleeves leans over me. “Eli?” My throat is raw, maybe I am sick after all. But the echo of my screams is ringing in my ears and I know the damage has been self-inflicted.

“Sunshine, it was just a dream, you are safe.”

“I’m sorry. I must have been asleep all day.”

His face is pensive, the blues dark. “You’re dreaming again.” It’s not a question.

“Silly.” I sit up, my heart still pounding and push at my hair. “Just silly dreams.”