Chapter 52
Broken

“You and Dante?” Vaughan kept his head low, staring at his dusty boots as they shuffled on the floor. He shook his head. “I never called that.”

Leilah reached out her hand, the veins bold and blue against the sickly whiteness of her skin but the cannula gone. Vaughan looked up and saw, taking his time before accepting it. His big hands felt warm and full of life as he grasped the offering of contact.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” he said, his voice husky. “I just needed to see.”

“Thank you.” Leilah’s eyes stared out with a blank, drugged expression.

Vaughan gave her fingers a squeeze and his lower lip trembled. “About the bloody horse,” he said, forcing the words out of a broken heart. “I couldn’t let you buy her because I already planned to give her to you.” He dipped his head and let go of Leilah’s hand as though her fingers were contaminated. He turned and strode from the hospital room and Leilah allowed the tears to fall. She marvelled at each plop of salt water on the bedsheet, wondering where it all came from. Vaughan’s boots sounded dull as he left the ward, the noise of his absence quickly filled by the cacophony of hospital noises.

Seline returned with Derek in tow, her blue eyes wide with apprehension.

“You all done with yer making up?” Derek asked, his hair on end and another Styrofoam coffee cup in his fingers.

“Yes,” Leilah replied, her voice flat.

“Ah, that’s the spirit!” Derek replied, bouncing into the room on his orthopaedic shoes and creaking limbs. He waved the cup towards Leilah.

“You called him?” Leilah’s heart sank. She tensed her body and put space between her and Derek, a world of distance in a few centimetres. “I thought he came because he wanted to.”

“Oh, shut yer maudlin, girly!” Derek scoffed, squelching back into the hissing chair. “He’s been here the whole time, but you refused to see anyone.” He tilted the coffee cup back and slurped the last few dregs.

“Mum?” Seline said, staring at Derek through a suspicious, slitted glare. “You ok?”

Derek leaned forward. “She’s fine, Sel. Get her some of that shitty coffee will ya? And me and you too, please?”

Seline’s shoulders slumped and Leilah heard her cursing as she slouched along the corridor. Her heart tensed at the thought of the conversation they would need to have.

Leilah glanced sideways at Derek. “You knew, didn’t you?” she asked, sounding tired. “Not sure how, but you did.”

Derek threw his head back and laughed. “Anyone with eyes could tell.” He slapped the bed and sent a ricochet through Leilah’s delicate frame. She pinned the groan between her teeth. Derek smirked. “I know family when I see it.”

Leilah’s lips parted in surprise. “What? You never said.”

“Not your business, girly,” Derek said with a wink. “But I kept an eye out for my niece, just like I promised your pa I would.”

Leilah pushed herself upright. “What? Dad never knew. His last letter to me made that clear.”

“I never said he knew, Deleilah! But he did ask me to keep an eye out, so that’s what I did. Who do ya think paid for that flash mother and baby unit? Ya don’t get that on the state.”

Leilah put a hand over her mouth. “I can’t do this. Seline’s gonna think I’m a total slapper. I need to get out of here.” Her last sentence emerged as a wail before Derek tightened his grip around her wrist. Leilah fought to kick the sheets away from her legs and he reached forward to pat them back down.

“Quit it!” he told her, taking her back to her childhood. Quit it. “You gonna tell that girly of yours?” he asked, his tone lighter.

Leilah shrugged. “Have to now.”

Derek rubbed his palm across his shaven chin. “Want me to see the boy about his property or you gonna do it yerself?” He looked worried then, his bushy eyebrows knitting in two diagonal white hedgehogs which conversed in the middle.

“You do it,” Leilah said with a deep sigh which hurt her sore breathing muscles. “I’ve brought enough misery to his door for this lifetime. I’m going back to my apartment. Seline extended the lease for me this morning.”

“Ok, sweetie,” Derek said. He stood and kissed her on the forehead, accepting the cup of coffee from a confused Seline as she returned. He dabbed her cheek with his lips and patted her shoulder as he headed for the door. “Your mama’s got stuff to tell ya,” he said with gentleness.

Seline’s eyes were wide as she perched on the bed next to Leilah, her face screwed up as though it helped her understand better. Between harrowed, ragged breaths, Leilah told her daughter the truth. Not all of the truth but damn near most of it. She told her about her childhood in the tiny town and her first French kiss with a boy named Dante. But she couldn’t tell Seline why he died, because it wasn’t her business to tell.