Place des Vosges, Paris, France
In the beginning, it was easy to hide Isabelle. I wrapped her in blankets and pushed her through the streets of Paris, her alien features hidden from view. If someone stopped to stare, I turned and walked away quickly, before I could be questioned. But now that she is older, my work is more difficult. Just the other day, I found Isabelle at the window, waving to an elderly couple below. They must have thought her bizarre features and luminous skin a trick of the light, or perhaps they doubted their eyes, because they stared and stared, gawking at my child as if at a horrible apparition. I came to the window, swept Isabelle aside, and closed the drapes.
My child may be monstrous, but she is mine, and I will protect her as best I can. The Montebianco family has given me the means to do so. The apartment is spacious and elegant, a maison particulière of four narrow floors filled with the treasures of Eleanor’s ancient French family. The forestry business is thriving, and Enzo sees to all of our needs. We have discreet servants, and food delivered when we’re hungry, and every kind of luxury imaginable. But still, we are prisoners of our heritage. Isabelle will never go to school. She will never have friends. Our outings in the city are becoming more and more difficult. I live in constant fear that someone will uncover the truth and take her from me, a Dr. Feist or a journalist, hungry to make a discovery that would change the world.
Sometimes, when I am most afraid, Eleanor’s words come rushing back to me—I have protected Vita and yet, in my weakest moments, I question the goodness of such protection. There are moments when I agree with Eleanor and wonder how I can protect a creature that, if discovered, all the world would destroy. But then she laughs, and her whole being lights up with happiness, and I know that I will do anything to keep her safe.
Before I left Montebianco Castle, I found Aki on the east lawn. He had followed me down the mountain the night of the bonfire, determined to take Isabelle back to the village. We sat together near the pond, like generals negotiating a settlement. In exchange for Isabelle, I would continue to send supplies to the village. If I ever learned they had harmed another child, however, I would stop all aid to the tribe. There would be no medicine, no clothes, no blankets, no food. It would be a death sentence, he knew, and he promised never to bring another child to the village, even though this, as we both understood, made survival equally impossible. He gave me his blessing to raise Isabelle and, to my relief, we parted in peace, not exactly friends, but not enemies either.
That was nearly three years ago. In that time, Isabelle has become the image of her father—a beautiful, smart girl with a strong body and a sharp mind. I have done my best to protect her, and yet, it is becoming impossible to hide her. Soon, we will be forced to leave Paris and take refuge in the immense, geologic silence of the mountains. Sal and Basil are there now, waiting for our return. They tend to the greenhouse and the goats in the mews. I’ve installed a new telephone, and Basil calls every week with updates about the various projects I have started—the helipad on the north lawn, the renovation of the second-floor ballroom, with its hundred mirrors and crystal chandeliers. A flower garden has been planted around the mausoleum in tribute to Vita. She lies next to Eleanor now. Etched into the cartouche above her tomb are the words:
A LONG, long sleep, a famous sleep
That makes no show for dawn
By stretch of limb or stir of lid,—
An independent one.
I imagine her there, among the remains of our ancestors, laid out in that marble vault, waiting for me to come home.
Until then, I walk with Isabelle through Paris at night, when the streets are empty and she is hidden in shadows. I find comfort in memories of my time with the Icemen in the grotto, bathing with the tribe in the hot spring, playing with the children in the garden. I cannot help but believe that it is my destiny to be Isabelle’s mother, a destiny as ancient and powerful as the codes in my blood. When I am in doubt, and feel I might fail, I recall my ancestors dancing at the fire, that rich and noble tribe, and know that I am not alone.