Chapter Twenty-Eight: Home: Angeline

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Chapter Twenty-Eight: Home: Angeline

It was so dreamlike. I couldn’t tell what was real and wasn’t these days. But it felt real, so real and so perfect. I knew I wasn’t dreaming, because there was the space, the dead bookstore that was the orphanage. There was Danny, Danny’s arm, loving smile at me – my friends and family in front of me, talking and breathing. I loved them all so much. I knew Danny would save me, I always did.

I felt the breeze, heard the busy city all around me, saw the hustle and bustle around me, smell the exciting scents – I loved it all and missed everything so much. But most of all, I missed my son.

Ethan.

So many times I had thought I’d forgotten his face, forgot the feel of his tiny fingers, the light in his eyes that were so like mine. All those endless days and nights filled with bad dreams, I tried to keep him in my mind, remind myself I was doing Hutch’s bargain to save him. And through those three months, I told myself that I would never leave him again. How could I? The hardest thing about being a mother was seeing your child’s face full of pain. And my son had seen so much horror if not for a few seconds too long. The battle at the orphanage scarred everyone for many years to come. But he was only five, and to see all that blood and destruction was too much. And then, on top of that, he saw his uncle being beaten like a dog, his father pummeled to the ground, and his mother forcibly taken away for three months. I couldn’t begin to imagine Ethan’s point of view of this…

I stared at the old bookstore with Danny’s hands at my waist. The world blurred with my tears and I began to tremble. What would it be like to see everyone again? What would it be like to see Ethan again? How had he changed?

I couldn’t imagine Ethan’s reaction to seeing me, and then I was angry at myself for everything that I allowed to happen, including Hutch’s plan. However, just as quickly as I was angry, I was terribly upset by everything – then my happiness won out over every other emotion I was feeling. I was so happy to have Danny’s arms around me again, to have Kayla and the others supporting me, standing behind me now, to see the orphanage and everyone else inside waiting… Ethan.

Ethan, my son.

Danny squeezed my waist and leaned close to me. “It’s okay, Ang, you’ll be fine.” His voice was concerned.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, forcing down my surprise at hearing my steady tone. I wiped my eyes and sniffed. I turned to face him and he tried to smile. “Is he any different?”

Danny’s brow wrinkled. “He is different,” he said after a pause of searching my expression. I sniffed and he wiped a tear from my cheek. “He’s less of a troublemaker, that’s for sure.” He was trying to make me laugh, and, for the sake of trying to keep my sanity, I laughed breezily once. His face was serious then: “He murmurs your name in his sleep,” he whispered. “He misses you, Ang, more than anything.”

Fresh tears overflowed, but I didn’t bury my face in his chest. Instead, I told myself sharply that I needed to stop worrying and just go inside. Three months was long enough. I wanted to see Ethan.

I sniffed once more with the air of finality, smiled shakily but determinedly at Danny and everyone else, and took a deep breath. Still, tears distorted my vision. I stumbled forward, through the orphanage’s special force field now with Claire’s vows, and the bookstore became the New York Orphanage.

Hands trembling, heart thudding, head spinning, I stepped up the old concrete stairs. I placed my shaky fingers on the doorknob. I turned it slowly. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. I was finally home, so I opened the door.

The smell rushed to greet me, the smell of children, of food, of centuries-old furniture, of peeling wallpaper and wooden floors, and just the smell of home. The air was warm, and dreary, like everyone seemed to give up in hoping. The iron stench of blood was there, too, but only faintly. There was the stairs that led to bedrooms and the infirmary, the dark hallways. No one was to be seen.

I glanced at Danny, who nodded to me to go forward. Biting my lip, I entered fully, looking around. I stared at the top of the stairs as if hoping Ethan would hear me and come rushing over. Kayla, Jess, Zo, Riddle, Veronica, and the others walked past me, giving me smiles and reassuring looks. They all headed upstairs, but Danny stayed by me, holding my hand. I glanced at him again wonderingly, my voice failing me.

“He’ll come,” Danny whispered reassuringly.

And then I knew everything was perfect, because Kendall wheeled himself at the top of the stairs with my son in his arms.

Ethan.

“Momma!” Ethan’s cry both broke my heart and mended it.

He leaped out of his uncle’s arms and began to wobble down the stairs, but I was already running up the first flight. He slid down a few, and I jumped up a few. My son launched himself in my arms. We were both sobbing and laughing simultaneously, drunk on pure joy.

Ethan, my son.

“Ethan,” I whimpered. “Oh, Ethan. Ethan, my baby… Honey, I’m home. Momma’s home, sweetie.” I buried my face in his hair, held him tight, kissed him. “I’m home.”

“Momma,” was all he whispered as he put his arms around my neck and clung to me, refusing to let go. I felt his sour tears of happiness seeping through my shirt. “Momma, I miss you.”

“I missed you, too, Ethan,” I sobbed. “I missed you so much. I promise I’ll never leave you ever again.”

He looked at me. His face was so like his father’s, except for his eyes. He had my eyes. “Never?”

I smiled as wide as I could and sobbed a laugh. I hugged him again. “Never,” I agreed.

I was home.

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