From the sanctuary of
the bath surrounded by Lily fragranced bubbles she sobbed. Lucy had brought her a cup of tea and gently
guided her to the bathroom when she walked in the door, too distraught to say a
word. Now the guilt of her own, lost
baby added to all the tiny lives she had gathered in weighed heavy on her
again. She glanced around the small
bathroom, looking for one of D’s razors, wishing to sink into the eternal
oblivion she witnessed every day. D had stopped her the first time she had
tried that, and brought her here.
Lucy,
the oldest and wisest of the daughters, had commented that D did these things
out of kindness, thinking it best for the girls he rescued. Unfortunately, he didn't see the pieces that
Lucy had to pick up as the girls invariably tortured themselves with the guilts
of their previous lives. Diana was an
excellent example. Picking the children
to gather, getting there earlier and earlier to see their fate play out in
full, going even to the maybe’s to look for some hope in their little
lives. If D knew how it affected her, he didn't let on. He could be a little dumb
sometimes.
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