Temere Mortis

Chapter Thirty-five

"We have to be quiet," Alex told her under her breath.

They were creeping out of Isla's room and across the landing. After leaving the confines of the bedroom they had sunk down to a squatting position as they sumo-crawled their way across the wooden floor.

"Stay down, we can't let them see us over the bannister."

It was a sight to behold. The two girls were reunited once more and partaking in their usual mischief. This time however, there was more than a punishment from their parents on the line.

They made it to the end of the landing and straightened up, relishing in the quiet cracks their backs made as they stretched. A soft cough interrupted them. Isaac, Henry and Danny stood before them, inquisitive eyebrows raised.

"Where do you think you're going?" Danny asked menacingly, stalking towards them. Alex raised her chin defiantly.

"Out," she told him, her eyes narrowed. Danny looked at her in disbelief. Isla was reminded joltingly of when Alex and Isla used to sneak out of the Isaacs' family home as children.

"Where?" Danny inquired, astounded. "There's a man hunt!" Alex's lips tightened into a grim white line.

"Well they're not looking for my Isla, are they?" she bit out angrily. She grabbed Isla's wrist and prepared to make a break for it. Placing one foot in front of the other, she readied herself to pounce.

"Alex, please," Danny pleaded. "You know this is a mistake."

"Yea, well, so was not taking Isla to get her memories back whilst you were in that stupid place!" Alex countered aggressively, not moving from her fighting stance. The boys balked in unison. Henry turned to Isla.

"Your memories?" he breathed. His eyes lit up with hope. Isla threw him a weird look, confused by his eagerness.

"Yea," Isla said softly in reply, hoping they hadn't attracted the attention of the people below them.

"I'm in," Henry responded immediately. "I am so in." Isaac stepped forward.

"Me too," he chimed. Danny looked on in frustration.

"You know Isla will kill you if you do this, Jacob," he admonished.

"No, I won't." Isla rolled her eyes. Danny glared daggers.

"Not you," he told her scornfully and with a fierce burn of recognition Isla understood.

"Oh." She blinked, dumbly. "The other one. Why doesn't she want me to know everything?" Danny shifted his gaze to Henry discretely before looking back at Isla. Isla's eyes widened.

"Wait," she chocked. She turned to Isaac. "Jacob?" Memories flashed before her eyes. She remembered her mother's words, from before she was taken to the clinic.

"He was only 9 months old," her mother admitted stonily, holding onto the last thread of her composure. Her face was white, but her eyes held a fierce determination that both impressed and scared her daughter. "They took him before he could walk."

Isla didn't know how to reply. It was her turn for her mouth to open and close repeatedly. She raised a hand to her fare wearily as if forcing her jaw to stay shut. After a beat of tense silence, she spoke.

"How old would he be mum?" she whispered. "What was his name? Why did you never tell me?" she accused her heartbroken mother. How had she kept this from her for so long? How could she justify it?

"Twenty-two, his name was Jacob." her mother told her, quietly. Her voice was little above a broken whisper as it shattered the dead air between them. "You didn't need to know."

Jacob, he was her brother. Isaac was her brother. She gazed at him, absorbing every detail of his face. Her breath came to her in short pants. She remembered when he had come to save her from the clinic on visitation day.

Finally, Isla looked across from her, seeing her father hunched over slightly in his seat as he attempted to study her face more closely. Whilst the man looked like her father, his voice was more youthful and less gravely than she was used to.

"Hi dad," Isla greeted him sweetly. "How nice for you to come and see me."

Her father recoiled sharply, his face appalled.

"No Lila, it's me, Isaac," he insisted quietly. He lowered his voice even more as he continued. "Remember me, from the support group?"

She had thought after that incident, of the remarkable similarities between Isaac and her own father. It was all so clear to her now.

"Your name isn't Isaac," Isla probed, but she didn't need him to respond. Isaac shook his head, slowly.

"No, it's not," he admitted. Isla laughed but it wasn't filled with humour. It lashed him like a whip through the air with it's bite.

"Seriously?" Isla growled. "You chose Alex's surname as your alias?" A laughed bubbled in her chest and before she knew it she was laughing, with humour this time. It was apparently infectious because before long the others had joined her, laughing at the ridiculousness of her situation. Her laugh faded, and the group was shrouded in silence.

"Was anything in my life real?" Isla begged, willing herself not to cry again. She had never been a cry baby before the clinic and she refused to become one now.

"Everything," Danny told her, and she saw honesty in his eyes. "Until we showed up, everything was real. When these two," He jabbed his thumbs in the direction of Isaac and Henry, "came in your world changed and I am sorry." He looked genuinely guilty as he appraised her. "And then, when you were arrested, and I had to come in too so that I could deal with the police. Things got messy, but we never meant you any harm. We were trying to protect you."

Isla raised her head, staring defiantly into his sorrow-filled eyes.

"Protect me now then," she demanded. "Come with me, help me."

Isla could see the war going on inside Danny's head as he struggled to reply. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay," he stated firmly. "I'll help you."