The Crowns of the Gods.

Dealing with Demons

 Blair wandered aimlessly through her grandmother's house, a labyrinth of memories and unresolved emotions. Despite the strained relationship that had defined her final interactions with Joan, Blair couldn't shake the ache in her heart; Joan was still her mother. Anger bubbled beneath the surface of her grief, a tumultuous mix of emotions threatening to consume her.

She longed to confide in Petal, to pour out her frustrations and fears, but the shadow of her past haunted her. As a child, Blair had been labeled a liar, her words doubted and dismissed. Would Petal believe her now, especially about Kai? The very thought made her stomach churn with uncertainty.

Blair couldn't deny the truth about Kai, no matter how ugly it was. He was a deceitful, manipulative man, a fact her mother had been blind to until the very end. Petal already harbored a deep-seated resentment towards him, and Blair questioned whether it was her place to fan the flames of that animosity.

Blair kept her distance from Joan and Kai, a self-imposed exile fueled by years of pent-up resentment and anger. She never dared to reveal the true reason behind her relief at being far away from them—the freedom to escape the suffocating facade of false happiness she had worn for so long.

Cutting off contact with her mother and stepfather had provided a temporary reprieve from the turmoil swirling within her. She no longer had to suppress her true feelings to spare Joan's fragile emotions. In the silence of her solitude, Blair found solace, but also a gnawing sense of emptiness.

Conflicted and unsure of how to navigate the tangled web of emotions within her, Blair clung to her role as the pillar of strength for others. It was easier to offer support than to confront her own demons. Opening up meant exposing the raw, unfiltered parts of herself—the parts she had spent years burying deep within.

Jinx, with her unwavering insight, had warned Blair that avoidance was not a solution, but she couldn't bring herself to face the darkness lurking within. The thought of being vulnerable, of letting someone see the scars that marred her soul, filled her with a bone-deep terror.

Yet, beneath her carefully constructed facade, Blair knew that she couldn't keep running forever. Someday, she would have to confront the ghosts of her past, no matter how terrifying the prospect seemed.

As Petal watched Blair wander from room to room, lost in her own thoughts, a sense of concern gnawed at her. It was evident that Blair was grappling with more than just the loss of her mother; there was a weightiness to her demeanor that spoke of deeper struggles.

Petal didn't pretend to understand the full extent of Blair's inner turmoil, but she empathized with the young woman as she tried to navigate the complexities of grief and loss. It warmed her heart to see Blair's two faithful companions, Braxy and Papu, offering silent solace by her side.

Approaching her granddaughter with a soft smile, Petal reached out a comforting hand.

"You know, your mother adored this house even when she had to work and take care of the elderly residents," Petal said, her voice carrying the weight of years spent within these walls, each memory etched into the very fabric of the place.

"Yeah, I adore this house too. I remember working weekends with her. Chase and I spent most of our childhood in this house," Blair said softly, her gaze wandering around the familiar surroundings, where every corner held a piece of her past.

"You did. I can remember you riding your pony along the ditch bank, or up and down the driveway for hours," Petal recalled fondly, her eyes alight with the recollection of youthful exuberance that once echoed through these halls.

"How about my very first ride on your old gelding?" Blair asked, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes as she revisited the fearless curiosity of her youth.