Delusion in Death

me—into something miserable. I’d want to know how shecould feel so much contempt for the child she made, something innocent and defenseless. Her answers don’t matter,” Eve added.
    “No?” Mira arched her eyebrows. “Why not?”
    “Because everything about her was a lie. Everything about her was self-serving so no matter what I asked, her answers would be shaded with that. Why would I believe her?”
    “And still?”
    “Okay, and still part of me—maybe a lot of me is sorry I didn’t get a chance to look her in the face, to ask those questions even if the answers didn’t matter. Then to tell her she’s nothing. She’s nothing .”
    The hell with calm , she decided on a rise of fury. The hell with all of it .
    “They tried to make me nothing—no name, no home, no comfort or companions. All fear and pain. All cold and dark. I want to look her in the face and tell her no matter what she did, no matter how she hurt me, how she degraded me, she couldn’t make me nothing. She couldn’t make me her.”
    Her breath came out in a shudder, and she felt tears on her cheeks. “Shit.” Impatient, she swiped them away. “It’s stupid. It hurts to think about it. Why think about it?”
    “Because when you try to block it out, it comes at you in your dreams where you’re vulnerable.”
    She rose again, still restless. “I can live with the nightmares. I can beat them. I did it before, and they were worse. But Roarke … I don’t know why, but I think it’s harder on him now. Harder to deal with them, with me.”
    “He couldn’t confront her either. And he lived through this experience in Dallas with you. He loves, Eve, and those who love suffer when who they love suffers.”
    “I know it. I see it. I’m here because I know it, I see it. And it pissesme off she’s causing me more trouble dead than she did alive. I have faces of so many dead in my head. I can live with them. I did my best by every one of them when they came to me. I can live with her, too. But I don’t want her to have this power, to make me weak.”
    And there, Mira thought. “Do you think having nightmares makes you weak?”
    “It does. You said it yourself.”
    “I said vulnerable. There’s a difference, a considerable difference. Without vulnerabilities, you’d be brittle, inflexible, cold. You’re not. You’re human.”
    “I don’t want to be vulnerable to her.”
    “She’s dead, Eve.”
    “God.” A little sick, she pressed her hands to her face. “I know it. I know it. I stood over her body. I examined it, determined cause and time of death. I worked it. And yes, she’s still …” She searched for the term. “… viable. Enough so when I dream about her, I’m afraid, and angry. She looks at me, she knows me, and something clutches in my gut.
    “I’m part of her. That’s how it works, isn’t it? What a woman eats, whatever she puts in her body goes into what’s growing inside her. What’s in her blood. They’re attached until the cord’s cut. She was broken, so wouldn’t something be broken in me?”
    “Do you think every child born inherits all the flaws and virtues of the mother?”
    “No. I don’t know.”
    “Sit a moment. Sit.”
    When she did, Mira reached over, took Eve’s hand so their eyes stayed level. “You aren’t broken, Eve. You’re bruised, and still healing, but you’re not broken. I’m a professional. You can trust me.”
    Though it made Eve laugh a little, she shook her head.

    “They did break you, all those years ago when you were only a child—innocent, as you said, defenseless. And you took what was broken and put it back together, made it strong, gave it purpose. And you let it love. You’re more your own woman than any I’ve ever known—that’s a personal and professional observation.”
    “I need to end her. I know I need to end her. I won’t have Stella in my head, and I won’t have her bringing my father back.”
    “Coming here? You’ve taken steps to doing just that. Tell me, I asked you once before if you knew why you called her Stella, and him your father. Do you know the answer now?”
    “I thought about it, after you said something. I didn’t realize I was doing it. But I think … What he did to me, what he did to a child—his own child? I think he was an evil man. I don’t like using that word because it’s sort of clichéd, but he was. But …”
    Because her throat was dry, Eve gave in, picked up the tea, and drank.
    “I was hungry a lot,