Evolution - The Oasis Project Book 3

Thirty-Two - Ira

I saw Stuart and Yulian sitting on the porch deep in conversation, so I headed out the back door after a glass of water. It was a couple of hours from sunrise but I wasn't sleepy in the slightest. Shrugging on a light jacket, I trudged to the shed with the laces on my farming boots undone.

"Hey." I tossed the shed lock in the air as I walked through the open door towards Celestia. Her head snapped up when I caught it, the shackle rattling loudly in my hand.

"Ira?" Celestia squeaked like a mouse and backed away from me as much as her handcuffs, linked to the wall, would allow. Nita's chair was now empty, her handcuffs carelessly thrown on the ground.

I jingled my set of keys before ending my taunt with a yawn. I was regretting this already. "They might forget you," I muttered while removing her cuffs, revealing angry red skin underneath, which matched the rest of her patchy body.

Celestia didn't move even after I granted her freedom. She stared at the dusty floor and watched a spider web on Nita's chair flutter in the early morning breeze. "You can all forget about me," she whispered, still avoiding eye contact.

"There's a bath upstairs." I ignored her words and the shake that started in her hands. Pulling her up by her clothed upper arms, I groaned when Celestia decided to be heavy as a stone instead of cooperating. "Don't give me that shit now that Nita's gone."

For some reason, that made Celestia stand up and follow me out of the shed. I quietly led her inside the house, making sure to not let the door or floorboards squeak as we made our way upstairs. Celestia was sluggish and didn't look like the friend I once had in the slightest. When I wordlessly drew the bath and inspected her, she looked much older than I remembered. Her hair stuck to her neck. Some black strands were caught in her gills, frayed and split.

"I'm so sorry, Ira," Celestia said over the sound of the gushing water. "About the boat, Jaysen, New York, Desmond."

I crossed my arms defensively and leaned against the wall. She'd just named most of my nightmares. "If I can help in any way I can... Anything I can do to help reverse what I've done." Her dark eyes finally met mine for a second before she cast her gaze down again.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" I muttered, sucking in a deep breath and looking at the steam that was spreading to the ceiling. I sighed when a loud sob escaped Celestia's throat and fat tears rolled down her soft brown skin. "Just get in the water."

"I shouldn't be here." Celestia hesitantly tugged at the hem of her t-shirt. "I don't deserve to be after what I did. I should have died instead of Jaysen. I really—" The words got stuck in her throat, but I remembered how much she liked Jaysen. He was probably the only man in her life who truly cared about her.

"There's no use in saying or thinking that now," I told her. "I'll get you some of my clothes and you can sleep on the couch in the living room. If anyone says anything, you can send them to me."

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I didn't feel like I got any rest when the alarm rang for me to get up and take over Linkin's farm chores. A couple of coffees later, I felt more human and ready to face Thierry when he ran down the stairs.

"Sorry," I said, making an extra mug for him. He didn't look too displeased to see me instead of his new wife. "She'll be fine."

Thierry and I fed the farm animals in mostly silence, occasionally interrupting the quiet sunrise with exchanges of positivity and encouragement. Eventually, he went back to check on Fang, bringing back a tearful boy hugging a bucket of chicken feed to his chest. His black hair had been cut – badly – and he dropped the bucket when he saw me and not his mom.

I didn't know how to comfort a heartbroken child except to squat in front of him and smile. "She's going to come back and check on these chickens, so we'd better make sure they're still fat and running around, huh?"

Fang stared at me like I was speaking a different language. Thierry had a big hand on his shoulder as Fang tried to figure out what was stranger, Linkin's absence or the fact that my hands were muddy and I was offering to feed the chickens with him.

"Come on." Thierry nudged him and picked up the bucket, holding it out. "Your job is to make sure all the chickens are still here when Aunt Ira finishes, okay?"

I shook my head as Fang sniffled. "Thierry, seriously?"

"Okay, dad," Fang said.