Moonlight's Ambassador (Aileen Travers Book 3)(44)

"Why do you think something is wrong?" I asked. I knew what was wrong, but it surprised me that she did. She existed in a fog and rarely noticed the world around her, or if she did, she forgot any hard truths shortly after learning them.

"Caro hasn't been by to see me in a long time." Her eyes were watery, and she was the picture of a broken woman, her hair lank and unwashed around her face, wearing sweats with food stains on them. She was a far cry from the fashion plate of our childhood. I'd known she had problems, but the extent managed to shock me. "She usually stops in every other week to help me clean and make sure I have everything I need."

Mrs. Bradley left the door open as she shuffled back to her seat in front of the TV. I hovered on the edge of the doorway, conscious of the fact that I couldn't enter unless she gave me express permission.

"Mrs. Bradley, how about you invite me in and I ask you a few questions about Caroline?" I asked, giving her a hopeful smile.

The fog cleared from her face for a moment, and she looked at me with something like fear. "I can't do that. Only the monsters need an invitation into your home."

My smile faded, my expression turning thoughtful. Two years ago, I would have thought such a statement necessitated a visit to a mental health facility. Now, I had to wonder if there might be something more to Mrs. Bradley that I had never seen before.

Suspicion joined the fear on Mrs. Bradley's face, and she clutched at something. My gaze dropped to the fire poker that now rested across her lap. It looked like cast iron, heavy enough that a blow from it would hurt if it landed.

"Are you a monster, Aileen?" she asked.

"Of course not, Mrs. Bradley." I kept my voice calm, not wanting to send her into a rage that could cause her to harm herself or me. "You've known me for many years. I used to spend the night at your house near that park. Do you remember? You had a cherry blossom tree in your front yard. We took pictures in front of it on the first day of school every year."

Her grip on the poker relaxed and her focus turned inward. "Yes, I do remember that."

My shoulders loosened, and I felt relief.

"Caro said you haven't been yourself since coming back," Mrs. Bradley said, her gaze suddenly direct as if it could see straight through me. I fought a sense of unease. "You might not be Aileen anymore."

There was a depth of knowledge on her face that gave me chills. Yes, I think there was more to Mrs. Bradley and the housewife I'd always assumed her to be. I don't think either Caroline or I had ever given her enough credit.

Her hands tightened on the poker, and I took a step back.

"Aileen?" a familiar voice asked from the sidewalk behind me.

"Mom?" I blinked at my mother, standing there watching me with surprised eyes and clutching several bags of groceries. "What are you doing here?"

"Caroline asked me to look after her mom while she was away on a research trip." My mom joined me at the door. She was shorter than me, with warm brown eyes and blond hair that had reddish highlights when the sun hit it just right. She was a bundle of energy wrapped in a small package that belied the backbone of steel she possessed. She aimed a kind smile at Caroline's mother. "Hello, Grace, I have the groceries you asked for."

"Who’s that?" Mrs. Bradley asked, squinting at my mom.

My mom's sigh was quiet and sad. "It's Elise Travers, Aileen's mother. I was here last week."

"Last week?" It was clear by Mrs. Bradley's tone that she didn't know what my mom was talking about. She eyed my mom suspiciously.

I grabbed my mom's arm to prevent her from stepping inside.

"What are you doing, Aileen?" My mom had the tone of voice that I remembered from my childhood—the one that said I needed to think very hard about my answer, because she was about to rain down a mother's wrath. Only difference was, I was no longer a child, and her wrath didn’t contain quite the level of threat it once had.

"She has a poker in her hand, Mom, and she seems very confused."

"Oh, Aileen." Her voice was sad, but this time it was me making her that way. "She's not a threat. I've been coming here for the last few weeks with no problem."

I didn't let go of her. She might not have had a problem before, but the way Mrs. Bradley was looking at me said she might now.

My mother sighed. "I thought the facility was supposed to help you with this paranoia."

I blinked back at her, shocked, and remembered that she thought I'd been in a mental hospital dealing with my nonexistent PTSD and alcohol problem. It was something Liam put in her head to explain my absence and something I'd let her believe to protect her and my family.

In the darkest part of night, I sometimes wondered if the other reason I'd let the belief stand, was because it was just too hard to be around them and their constant well-meaning judgement. They thought they knew the world, and they didn't. Trying to explain that to them, was like standing on top of a mountain and shouting a warning to the town below that an avalanche was coming. Frustrating and heartbreaking.

"Mom, this has nothing to do with that. She threatened me with a poker before you showed up. I don't want you going in there alone."

She huffed at me and shook her head, making it clear she didn't believe me. "I'm going in there to help her. If you're so worried, you're welcome to join me."