Vain (The Seven Deadly, #1)(74)
“It was better. Better than anything I could have conjured on my own. So I’m telling you, my beautiful Sophie Price, don’t cry for me.” She coughed again and this time blood accompanied it.
“Karina, don’t leave,” I begged her.
“Promise me one thing,” she requested. “Promise me you’ll give it all to God and let Him decide it for you. He’ll gift you no regrets.”
“Shhh,” I told her, brushing her hair back when she inhaled and choked on air. “Save your breath, Karina.”
“You may have misery,” she continued, ignoring my plea, “you may lose hope in the sorrow of an unplanned life but as long as you have faith and trust in adoration, in affection, in love, that sorrow will turn to happiness. And that is a constant, dear.” She breathed deeply and steadily for a moment, seemingly catching her breath.
“No one can know sincere happiness, Sophie, without first having known sorrow. One can never appreciate the enormity and rareness of such a fiery bliss without seeing misery, however unfair that may be.
“And you will know honest happiness. Of that I am certain. Certain because it’s why you are here and also because here is your inevitability.”
I hugged her, crying into her shoulder and silently begging God to save her, silently screaming out for Charles to be there. I worried for him.
Her breaths sounded wet and labored and I stole a moment away from the embrace to look at her. I shook my head at how pale she’d become.
“Tell him he was my greatest adventure. Tell him I love him,” she rasped.
I nodded. She sputtered her last breath and died in my arms.
“No!” I screamed at her. “No!”
A noise approached and I raised a trembling gun at it, bawling openly. It was Ian. The gun forgotten.
He stopped short at the sight, shaking his head back and forth in disbelief. His eyes reflected glassy in the light of the fire. He ran to us, sliding before us. He raised his hands before me, words escaping him. I couldn’t explain. I’d lost my voice as well. I could only offer him tears in explanation. I watched his unsteady hand smooth Karina’s hair from her face and a sob broke from between his lips.
“Karina?” we heard come near us. “Karina?” Charles desperately inquired and my heart already ached severely for him. “Karina!” he exclaimed, finding her bloodied in both Ian’s and my arms. “Karina!” he bellowed, hysterically grabbing for his wife. Ian and I gave her to him and he held her closely. “Oh my God! My God!” He clutched her to him fiercely. “Karina, my love. Karina. Karina. Karina.” He could only repeat her name over and over.
We could hear children’s voices approaching and I ran over to stop them from getting any closer. I kept them at the fence, preventing them from seeing anything. I looked upon each of their unsure faces and was close to bursting. How are we going to tell them?
I checked on Ian and Charles and noticed Charles had begun to carry his wife to his cabin, struggling in his older age to take all her weight. When Ian attempted to help, Charles refused, lifting her up the porch steps and closing the door behind them.
Ian watched the door for a moment before turning my direction. The sun was beginning to rise, the buildings were but smoldering, charred remains and the gray morning cast a murky pall over Masego.
I studied the hopeless state within its walls, my eyes falling upon the still burning tree, no longer the imposing, comforting soldier I’d come to rely so heavily on.
As long as the baobab tree is here, I will be...
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
We buried Karina at the new property within twenty-four hours because there was no way to preserve her body. It was just as well, none of us would have grieved her properly even if we had been able to keep her for a few more days.
That night we took the children to the CHU’s, pairing the older kids with the younger kids so they had someone to watch over them as well. None of them took the news of her death well but a handful of children were beside themselves and it took days to get them to feel they were out of harm’s way.
Charles fell into a deep depression, tending to keep to his CHU a lot. We would take him trays of food but they only sat near the edge of his cot. It seemed we were going in just to replace the old untouched food but I was diligent. Eventually, he would need to eat and I wanted it to be available to him when the time came. Poor Charles, every time I’d knock and enter, he’d be still on his cot but would always roll over to smile at me, pat my hand and tell me I was good girl. I would keep a brave face for him but the second that CHU door fell closed, I’d have to stifle a sob.
Pembrook arrived two days before he was originally scheduled which helped a lot. The second their plane touched down in the field next to the new community he’d asked where Charles’ room was. They’d disappeared inside and I’d only gotten to see him when I took them both dinner that night.
Pemmy hugged me tightly and I returned the hug, a little piece of security fitting back into place. I knew it would take awhile for it ever to go back to rights and I wasn’t even sure if it ever would completely. My whole world had been knocked off its axis. When I thought I could find solace in Ian’s arms, I’d discovered that he was entirely too busy, too exhausted and too frayed for me to expect anything out of him fairly. In fact, I worked tirelessly to appease any burden I possibly could for him. Selfishly, I admit it also made me feel closer to him. He was so closed off he felt unattainable.