When Demons Are Redeemed: The Dominant's Muse

Sixty-One - The Refundables Must Get Their Turn

Note: These are the last of the wounded women journey chapters. So many issues are in Catherine’s mind because of her past, because of whom she’s known, and especially because of who she is.

SIXTY-ONE

The Refundables Must Get Their Turn

Catherine, feeling quite out of sorts, takes a few more steps down the short corridor, intent on making it to the buffet room as quickly as she can.

The two stay-up pills indeed. Too much stimulation. But once I get some food down . . .

She shakes her head, and is soon surprised to hear what she recognizes as sounds emanating from a television. She stops walking and eyes the door to a room that she did not notice before, since, when tightly closed, this door’s design allows it to blend in perfectly well within the wall that surrounds it, thus hiding the existence of the room.

Food, Catherine reminds herself, as she takes a few more steps towards the buffet area. Television is not allowed, this weekend. I wonder who turned it on, she then nevertheless considers, before her feet stop moving her forward.

After a moment’s hesitation, she returns to the door, and, without thinking of wondering who might be watching after turning on the television, she sends both hands to lightly push on the barely opened door. She is relieved not to find more restrained and drugged non-refundables within, before she finally thinks to be relieved that no one at all is watching.

That could’ve been very bad, she decides, annoyed with herself for not having her head on straight.

She sends her eyes to the television, and quickly learns that the subject matter being discussed by the panel of women seen on the large flat screen fits right in.

First the non-refundables, and now, the refundables, I mean . . . Well, when it comes right down to it, they could all stand together, in a way, if only . . .

Catherine, the non-refundables won’t remember what they were feeling, much less that they were sharing it. For many, it won’t even be on their consciousness’ radar, because it’s so far deep within them, how they really feel. The why. The how. The conclusions, healer gets in.

But in the end, the only ones who really aren’t on the same page, are men.

 Just move along.

Catherine turns her face towards a wall that is adorned with a thin sheet of wood covered in sculpture, and that climbs a third of the way up the height of the room, before a plain, painted area takes over, and crown moulding then resumes the sculpted design, the motif, all the way to the ceiling.

There’s a name for it. I just can’t remember it right now.

Yes, yes. It’s nice work. Out, healer repeats. Just get some food and get back to Tristan.