The Family Origin

Chapter Thirteen: JOSEPH POV

 Clara spoke about the wedding for multiple nights before we settled into bed. If she was not reliving the details of the wedding, she was discussing Miles's future with Maisie. Her eyes were bright and her smile was wide when she gushed about having grandchildren. Bram's name was never brought up. We did not need him. He would soon become a distant memory. We were making this family thrive on our own.

Initially, I was worried about Maisie's meltdown at the wedding. Up until then, her behavior was not too concerning. She had a brief moment of being upset when she regained consciousness, but it appeared like she was adjusting to this family. Her screaming and crying throughout our ceremony were not what I anticipated. She managed to control herself somewhat when I threatened to cut her arm. The physical threat was enough to correct her behavior.

When Miles brought her to their room, I was surprised she did not carry on with her tears. Was she already trusting my son?

Maisie was quiet for the next few days. She said only a dozen or so words and avoided looking at us, but she did whatever Miles or Clara asked. Her lips wavered when she smiled, so I could tell she was not yet comfortable. She lingered around the doors and stared at the knives longer than intended.

Her calmness was an act. She thought she could outsmart us. She was going to run at any moment. I needed to show her the consequences of trying to run away. She was safer in this house than returning to that disgusting tavern.

I stayed up late the past few nights, remembering how she tried to leave her first night here. Sitting in the dark, I was hidden among the shadows at the kitchen table. I limited myself to one glass of whiskey each night so my mind would be clear when I caught Maisie trying to leave.

I was almost done with my whiskey when the stairs creaked. My lips curled into a smile as I listened to the slow and spaced-out sound of the creak. Maisie was attempting to sneak out, just like I had expected.

Maisie was barely visible in the moonlight pouring through the window. I did not move so that I would not make a noise. In the darkness, she could not see me. There was also no attempt to survey her surroundings. Assuming we were all asleep, she went straight to the kitchen counter. She grabbed a knife from the block before she crept to the back door. I imagined her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the lock. Once she had the door open, I stood.

Her gasp was audible when my chair screeched across the floor. She took a quick glance over her shoulder before running. She would not get too far. Her small stature would make her easier to catch. She had no shoes and her dress would restrict her movements even more. I sprinted after as she ran into the yard. If she was a little faster, she may have been able to hide in the dark. As I came closer, I could see the knife in her right hand.

Would she attempt to attack me?

I grabbed her right elbow, and she screamed. She flailed in my grip, and her panic stopped her from thinking clearly. She was a smart girl, but she was not smart enough. I grabbed her waist and threw her down onto the ground. The knife was knocked out of her hand. She screamed and attempted to crawl toward her weapon. I pressed my weight into her back to pin her down.

"Where are you going, Maisie?" I asked.

"Get off me!" she screamed.

She tried to throw her elbow backward, but it was futile. I grabbed her arms and rolled her onto her back. She swung her hands in an attempt to hit me in the face, but I held her wrists in a crushing hold. It was easy to gain control over her as I pinned her arms down on the wet grass.

"Why are you trying to leave?" I asked.

"You're sick!" she screamed.

"Maisie-"