Eloim made his father go back for the pets, and no matter how freaked he was, he went back in, but before he left he gave me a knowing look. Stay with Eloim. It wasn’t just for his safety and comfort, he had realised as I had that I was at a higher risk on my own.

I hated this. I hated the thought of using a child as a shield. What if she lost it and attacked regardless, and Eloim got affected in the crossfire. I would never forgive myself.

I wrapped my arm around Eloim shoulders. “You’re doing so great, I’m so proud of you.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked me, is voice small and fragile.

“No, sweetie, I was surprised but I’m not hurt.”

In fact I was. Nothing as bad as when I careened down the stairs the first time, but still, I knew I’d have a few bad bruises in the morning.

The fact that she could do so much, terrified me. How come something insubstantial could have so much strength?

For a moment there, I thought that what Xander was doing would help, that he could get to her, maybe even convince her to move on and it would be over. I really did, and I also know he’s going to blame himself hard for what happened.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to return with the cats, Miki had followed us diligently when we had fist come out. He gave a few warning barks every other minutes, but there was nothing attracting his attention in particular.

Eloim would jump every time.

“Do you see how good Miki is? He’s really trying to protect us.”

I extended my hand to Miki and he climbed on my lap happily to show us how great he is. Eloim looked at him and pet him carefully, which prompted the little dog to climb on his lap in turn and try to give him and few doggy kisses.

By the time Xander returned, Eloim was laughing.

Xander gave me a relieved look, dumped the two cats on the passenger seat and started the car.

“I called my parents, we’re going there for the night.”

I nodded. “Look at that, a surprised sleepover,” I told Eloim cheerfully, and it seemed to work a little. Then I went on about all the excited things we could do at a sleepover, and by the time we arrived, Eloim was pumped and ready.

I saw Xander’s eyes dart my ways a few times relieved Eloim wasn’t more traumatised than this.

I don’t have much experience with trauma, but I have with mood swings. I have a little brother who would lose his shit on a regular basis. He would tell me later that sometimes we would completely black out in his rage fits. And I had become his de facto caretaker when we were kids, as I realised that the best way to make him snap out of it was distraction. Depressed, angry, or excessively and overbearingly happy, the best way to melo him out was distraction. Humour when he was depressed, focussing his attention on something when he was too much on a high, sometimes a surprise would work to get his attention when he was angry and then I would go from there. Sometimes it took hours out of my day, just to control his mood.

It was absolutely tiresome, and by the time I was ten, I would find ways to isolate myself, run off, just not to have to go through so much effort to care for him. That’s when I started to really draw. I’d put my walkman on and just spend hours on the swings, or at the picnic table drawing—at least when the temperature allowed it.

There were times when it was mentally exhausting, and when something happened with me, upsetting me, everyone expected me to sort it out on my own.

That’s probably when I developed my staunch independence. That was my comfort zone anyways.

Having three younger siblings, I had been the caretaker of a lot a kids. My parents worked two and three jobs and I babysat, entertained, cooked, and did everything that was expected of me.

I love my siblings, but there were days when it had been hard.

Only I would not see them as often, now that I lived so far away.

It’s not that it bothered me much, and we’ve talked online at least every week, but it was a bit odd, this realisation that when things went sideways, everyone was so far.

I was used to having my family, always there, whatever happens, only they aren’t now, or at least not the way that they used too. But at the same time, a part of me was glad they were far. I doubt they would understand any of it, either my desire to stay in this family despite what was now happening, or the happenings themselves. I’m not sure I would have believed myself if someone would’ve told me this.

I looked at Eloim rush out of the car in a cheerful mood and I was really proud of myself. I wanted to see this little boy happy. My little boy.

That’s what he was supposed to be wasn’t he? Mine.

That had been the deal. He already called me Mommy, but I never dared call him son.

I felt bad that this sort of competition for mother’s right had sprouted between Enola and me. This is not what I wanted. I would have even been okay if Eloim would have preferred calling me by my name instead. It warmed my heart that he didn’t, but I would have understood otherwise. I was not trying to erase his biological mother’s memory from his life.

I wasn’t even sure he realised the ghost was his mother. I think that deep down, a part of him did, but I didn’t want to insist on it. I was afraid this would negatively taint the memory of his mother. I wanted him to be proud of where he came from. I wanted him to see his past, as his future, with positivity, despite all the challenges, despite the struggles and fears.

I slipped my finger through Xander’s.

On the plus side, my little bout of introspection had managed to get myself out of my own misery to focus on someone else instead.

I looked at the boy, rushing happily to his grandparent who were in their pyjamas, and I marveled at the power he had over me.

“I really love him,” I told Xander.

He moved his arm around my shoulders and squeezed hard.

“It’s not your fault,” I told him. I could see the torment in his eyes as we walked in.

He said nothing.

“I heard what you told Enola. It was the right thing to do. Don’t blame yourself for what happened after.”

“She could have seriously hurt you, killed you.” He swallowed. “I can’t let that happen. It was the last time.”

“You know that there is nowhere we can escape where she won’t be.”

“I know,” he said through his teeth, his jaw tight.

“So what’s the next step in your plan?”

“How can you be so calm?”

“I’m not, I’m waiting for you to get better, then I’ll fall apart. That’s how it work isn’t it?”

He looked like he’d just received a wrecking ball in the guts.

He left to talk to his parents for a few minutes and I let him.

When he returned he had a serious look on his face. I saw Miranda and Regis each hold one of Eloim’s hand and talk about sleeping under a bedsheet tent that night. I would have smiled at this if it hadn’t been for the intensity in Xander’s eyes.

“Right now, there is no kid, no ghost, no early construction workers, no interruption, I’m getting you naked and you’re not leaving that bed until noon.”

I grinned excitedly.

“Sounds like a plan.”