Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It's been a week since Brent's funeral. I have to say, I'm quite proud of myself for how quickly we were able to arrange everything. Fortunately, the lady from the funeral home was very friendly and helpful. I'm still grateful that she didn't ask about the cause of his death. I felt nervous when she asked about it, but thank God I was able to keep it vague, and she didn't ask any more questions once she realized I didn't want to talk about it.

Since Brent's death, everyday things have been on autopilot. I'm glad Cla5re isn't being too difficult. She seems to realize that something has changed, and at first, she was quite flighty. After just a few days, she had adapted to the situation. And it may seem like my imagination, but she seems to sense my feelings just fine. Whenever I'm having a hard time, she suddenly becomes very cuddly.

This morning is no different. As I go through a checklist in my head, I am again overcome by a wave of sadness. There are so many things I can't take with me—tangible memories that I will soon lose as soon as I close the door behind me. She crawls over to me, which she can do very quickly now, and pulls on my trouser leg. I pick her up with a watery smile. She puts her arms around me, and I kiss her head. With Claire in my arms, I check for the umpteenth time the suitcase I packed yesterday and her nursery bag. I think I packed everything, or at least the most important things.

While I'm giving Cla5re her bottle, I get a message from my mother. Again. Since that one afternoon, she has tried to call and text me every day. I ignored her calls every time, I can't tolerate her voice. And I was afraid I might accidentally give away my plans, which is the last thing I want. No, as far as my family knows, I'm still grieving and struggling to come to terms with everything. Which isn't entirely a lie, I'm still struggling with Brent's death. Or rather, with the fact that it was my own family who killed him, and now they're pretending like it's no big deal. When I read my mother's message, I have to struggle to contain myself. I have to read her text three times because I can't believe she actually send it.

Hey sweety, I know you loved Brent, but don't you think it's time to move on? You should also think about Claire, keeping her away from us isn't good for her either.

Your father and I think it will be good for you if you come and stay here for a while. Claire will probably like that too, and then we can help you out a little.

Remember, we will always be there for you, but you have to take the first steps yourself.

We love you, xxx mom.

I blink away the tears of anger from my eyes. I can't believe she just says I'm acting out. How on earth does it occur to her to suggest that I come and live there with Claire, even if only temporarily?

The idea, anything better than that. I can't wrap my head around how she acts like nothing is happening. As if Brent's death was an accident or because he was sick.

I can't bring myself to answer. They will soon find out what they did. They will never see Claire again, and I will make sure Claire knows precisely what her grandparents did.

Because I know what they can do, I have been preparing for my departure all week. I withdrew all our savings, so they can't track me down. In a few days, when we are already far away, the real estate agent will ensure that the house is put up for sale. He is the only one who is partly aware. The money goes into Claire's savings account.

I have booked an overnight stay for tonight in a B&B that I came across on the internet. It will be a long journey, and we won't arrive until early evening. We take the train to the airport, and from there, we go to Lastgrove. I'm dreading the flight and hope that Claire stays calm. At first, I wanted to do the entire journey by train, but that took way too long.

When Claire has finished her bottle, I wrap her in the sling, so that I have my hands free to take our luggage with me. She loves being in the sling and snuggles against me.

After one last lap through the house and when the moment comes that I close the door behind me, I still get a lump in my throat.

"Alright, Lilly, time to go," I mumble to myself and force myself to walk away and not look back.

When I arrive at the train station, it is overloaded with people. Everyone is in a hurry, and I have to be careful not to be knocked over by people who are walking quickly while looking at their phones, trying to catch their train.

Claire doesn't notice the hustle and bustle, she sleeps peacefully. I try to look around inconspicuously, hoping that I don't meet anyone I know or recognize anyone who works for my father.

When I'm on the train, and it finally starts moving after a few minutes, I can only breathe a sigh of relief. As far as I saw, there were no familiar faces that could give me away. Claire is still in dreamland, and I stare out the window. Memories of Brent come to mind, and with a small smile, I think back to the time we met. How clumsy he was when he told his secret. I chuckle, thinking back to all the wonderful moments we had together.

I startle when my phone rings, and when I see it's my mother, I quickly push her away. That woman can't stop, she must understand by now that I don't want to talk to them right now. A few seconds later, my ringtone sounds again, and irritated, I push it away again. I put my phone on silent. Just when I think they realize it's pointless, my phone starts vibrating again. This time, it is my father who attempts. I can just about resist the urge to answer the phone and start swearing at him, but that doesn't seem like a good idea on a crowded train. Someone next to me clears his throat. “Don't you think it's important and should answer the call?” The woman next to me asks cautiously.

"No." She looks at me in shock.

As I expected, my father makes another attempt not much later. Just before I want to push him away, I get an idea.

"What do you want? I have nothing to say to you." I say softly, half turning away from the woman next to me. Not that it will help much, she can hear me anyway.

"Where are you?" My father asks in a cold voice.

"That's none of your business," I answer just as coldly.

"Lilly..." His voice sounds menacing, and I have to swallow. His voice sounds just like it used to when I did something that wasn't allowed.

But I'm not that little girl anymore, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that he doesn't hurt me anyway. "Dad..." I say mockingly.

"You can't keep Claire away from us forever." It sounds like my father is having a hard time controlling himself. My mother is probably sitting next to him and glaring at him right now because he seems to be making things worse.

"Yes, I can, and I will!" I say with clenched teeth. "Not a hair on my head would ever think of leaving her with you again. You will never, never see us again; I will make sure of that!" I say the last thing while I get up and open the tilting window. Without saying anything else, I throw my phone out of the window.

Strangely enough, I feel relieved. They can't bother me anymore. The woman next to me looks at me in shock.

"Toxic family," I mumble and sit back down.

I look outside and pretend that the stares of the people around us don't bother me. I am relieved when we arrive at the airport after half an hour.

Claire slept the entire ride, and only when I got in line to drop off my suitcase did she wake up. She tries to look around in surprise. The people around us look at us with concern. They're probably hoping we're not on the same flight, so I ignore their looks and chat about all the new things around her. It's almost time for her bottle, but I'm hoping I can postpone it until we're on the plane. I have read that sucking on the pacifier provides relief to the ears during take-off and landing.

We can board, so I use that time to let Claire crawl around so she can burn off some of her energy. Hopefully, she won't mind sitting still on the plane a little less, although I fear the worst.

When we enter the plane, she immediately steals the hearts of the flight attendants on board. Fortunately, the looks of my fellow passengers are not too bad. Of course, there are people whose thoughts I can guess. But the people close to us don't seem to have a problem with it.

Just before we take off, I prepare her bottle, which she eagerly takes.

She is amazed when we take to the air; I am relieved when it turns out that the bottle works. That saves me a lot of stress. As I hoped, she falls asleep again after her bottle, and I have some time to relax.

I allow myself to drift off, knowing that Claire won't fall from my arms.