The Family Origin

Chapter Twenty-Five: JOSEPH POV

When I entered the house, reality took a moment to set in. So much was happening that my mind was slow to process everything I witnessed. I never thought I would see my kitchen covered in so much blood.

The feminine screams had become more masculine. I tried to focus my attention on the noise. Miles was on top of an unknown man who screamed and thrashed as Miles stabbed him over and over. Maisie was on the floor with her back pressed against the cupboard. Her eyes were wide, and her hair was a mess and falling out of her braid. Her arm was bleeding. She cradled her stomach, which covered her in even more blood.

My heart shattered as I looked over at Clara. She was lying on her back, but her eyes were wide and fixed on the ceiling. A large pool of blood made her petite body seem even smaller. The front of her dress was coated in a sticky wet crimson, running from her chest down to her stomach.

My body and mind seemed disconnected as I walked toward my wife. It was like walking through a nightmare as I approached her still body. Her chest was not rising and falling with breath. Blood trickled from the corner of her lips, which were slightly parted as if she was stuck forever in a cry. The stranger's screams seemed distant as I kneeled next to Clara. I ignored her blood soaking through my pants.

I had known Clara for over twenty-four years. She was visiting her cousins when she attended my church's Easter service. I always sat in the back pews, but during the service I could not take my eyes off the unknown lovely girl in the front row. After a few weeks, we stood at the altar in the same church. She was such a gorgeous bride. Even as she laid on the floor pale and covered in blood, she was beautiful.

My hand trembled as I reached forward to brush a piece of her hair away from her face. Her skin was not yet cold. She did not react to my touch; her eyes were open and wide. I chewed on my lip to push away the tears burning my eyes. Focusing on my breathing, I tried to push away my mixture of sadness and rage.

She was gone.

My wife was dead.

She was stabbed multiple times in the stomach and chest. It was a brutal murder. This stranger broke into the house and gave Clara the worst possible last moments of life.

Why was a stranger even in our home?

The door was only unlocked to test Maisie. Only a few minutes ago, Miles expressed his fears it was unsafe. He thought someone would want to hurt Maisie or Clara. I had serious doubts, but he was correct. This worries were much more than unjustified paranoia. A stranger had come into our home and harmed our family.

I looked over my shoulder to see Miles crouched in front of Maisie. Her eyes were closed, and she shook her head. His hands were on her stomach. I took a sharp breath to ensure that I would not cry when I spoke. My emotions could not take over my composure. I could not look weak in this moment.

"What happened?" I asked.

I cleared my throat to push away the threatening tears. Maisie opened her eyes. Her hands covered Miles's on her stomach. He did not look away from her, and his muscles remained tense.

"Clara and I were talking, and this man came in," Maisie said. Her voice wobbled as she struggled not to sob. "He wanted money. We said we had nothing, so he demanded we give him valuables. He made Clara give him her wedding ring. He wanted mine too, but I couldn't get it off my finger. It was stuck because of my weight gain from this pregnancy. I tried so hard. I promise I tried so hard to get it off my finger."

Tears rolled down Maisie's cheeks, but she was able to speak. She was unable to look at either me or Miles. Her gaze kept moving between Miles's hands on her stomach and Clara's body.

I grabbed Clara's hand and saw her wedding ring was missing. My teeth gritted as rage bubbled in my chest. Clara loved her ring and would have only given it up in pure fear and panic. This stranger stole from her, and it did not save her life. She did not deserve this. My beautiful wife did not deserve to lie dead on the floor.

"Why did he kill her?" I asked.

"He was going to cut off my finger," Maisie said. "Clara was trying to protect me."

Miles swore. His voice was loud and caused Maisie to flinch.

"I said this would happen," Miles said. He was speaking to me, but his attention did not leave Maisie. His voice was cold and void of any emotion. "I said this was a terrible idea."

"How did he come inside?" Maisie asked. "I thought the door was locked."

"It should have been," Miles snapped. "We should have always had it locked."

"From now on, it will be," I said.

Maisie took in a shaky breath. Her tears caused streaks to form in the blood splattered on her cheeks. I brought her into this home so she would be safe. We promised to protect her because she was part of the family, and we failed. She was pregnant and covered in a mixture of her and Clara's blood. None of this should have ever happened.

"I'm so sorry," Maisie said. Her voice was soft and quiet like she struggled to say the words. "I tried to get him to stop. I really tried."

"Is that why you are hurt?" Miles asked.

He lifted her arm. A deep gash was across her flesh. She hissed and gritted her teeth as she tried to pull away. He refused to let go, so she nodded. He was going to struggle to let her leave his sight again.

"How do I fix this?" Miles asked.

He was still looking at Maisie, but the question was directed at me. The wound was deep. I was going to need to stitch it closed to stop the bleeding before I moved Clara's body. My stomach twisted when I thought about her burial. She could not be buried in the church's cemetery. Would they find a way to blame her murder on Miles? He was always their target. We only had each other now.

We had to make sure Maisie was healthy, especially because she was having my grandchild. She was even more vulnerable, and she was all we had to keep this family alive. Bram left and Clara died, so only the three of us remained. If Maisie died, the Wilcox name would also die. We needed her as much as she needed us.

"Bring her upstairs to the bathroom," I said. "She will need stitches to stop the bleeding."

Miles nodded before helping her off the floor. He kept his arm tight around her waist as they climbed the stairs. I listened as the floor upstairs creaked while they walked to the bathroom.

A few minutes of silence passed while I stared at Clara's lifeless body. I wiped away the stray tear that rolled down my cheek. Right now, I could not stay down here and cry over Clara. Those were the emotions I would need to push away to a later time. I needed to get upstairs and take care of Maisie.

"I love you," I said softly.

I reached forward and closed her eyelids. I sighed as I got up from my knees. Her blood had soaked through my pants. Watching her stillness caused a shiver to run up my spine. I closed my eyes as I turned and walked toward the staircase.

In the bathroom, Maisie was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Miles was crouched in front of her and pressing a towel against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Maisie looked up at me. Her face was a mess of blood and tears. I said nothing as I grabbed the supplies to stitch her wound closed. If I spoke, I could potentially start crying.

I remained silent as I worked on Maisie. The only sound was her hissing and crying out in pain. Miles was silent, as usual, and only squeezed her hand to comfort her.

My mind was a cloudy haze from the mixture of sadness and rage. I focused on stitching Maisie's skin, but only one thought was perfectly clear.

No one was ever going to hurt this family again.