𝙄𝙁 𝙄 𝘾𝘼𝙉'𝙏 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 ◇ 𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥

𝗔𝗕𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗬 ▪ THREE

Valerie arrived home at the same time Shannon was leaving.

"Oh!" The woman said with a smile. "Hi." She looked like she was trying to decide what to say to the unfaithful man's daughter. The girl took this as an opportunity to voice her opinion on the whole thing.

"Are you stupid or something?" She asked, malice in her voice. "If it's not about the money, why are you wasting your time?" Shannon looked taken aback, shrugging in response.

"I-" Shannon looked bashful. "Well, we're in love."

Valerie arched an eyebrow. "Never mind. You are stupid." With that she walked upstairs. When she walked into her room, she got to work pinning the new photos to the wall above her bed like the rest. Then she looked at the photo from the nursery. Constantine seemed to read her mind.

"You saw the baby's room?"

"No." Valerie lied. The tone of his voice put her off.

"Don't ever lie to me again."

"I'm sorry."

"Are his things still in the crib?"

The girl felt the uneasiness from the moment in the nursery return. "What happened in there?"

"I've already said too much."

"Constantine?" It was no use, he'd grown silent. Valerie sighed, keeping the nursery photo on her nightstand instead of the wall.

The next morning, she sat at the table during breakfast, messing with the ring on her thumb.

Her mom grabbed the plate of bacon from the middle of the table and noticed the lack of food on her daughter's plate. "Why aren't you eating?" She asked dryly. "I slaved over a hot stove to make this." Valerie glanced up at the smirk on her mom's face. In reality, the food they were eating was just warmed up leftovers from the diner.

Her mom noticed that she didn't react. "Fine, be a grouch." Valerie's dad just pushed his eggs around on his plate. "Why are you both pouting? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Marcia," Phil said with a sigh. "I'm just tired."

"Well I can't imagine why, Phil," His wife spat. "It's not like you ever do anything around here anyways." Valerie laughed at her dad's wounded expression, stopping when her mom shot her a glare that said she wasn't joking anymore.

After breakfast, Valerie stayed sitting at the table. Her gray eyes burned holes in the wall, mind racing. She had the habit of getting lost deep in thought, one of the many activities that unnerved her dad.

And who could blame him, after all? It was an unsettling thing to see the girl, as still as a department store mannequin, in the kitchen or living room or whatever place she decided to plague with her presence. Not saying a word, not blinking, not even breathing all that noticeably for minutes on end. The man always wondered what kind of things ran through her head, what strange thoughts she might be having. He didn't want to admit the girl scared him, almost as much as his wife did. To do so would be to admit defeat and he knew if he did that, he'd never make it out of that house alive. Although, he wouldn't have been the first member of the household to go so suddenly.

February, 1981

It had been a month since Valerie had been discharged from the hospital. The scar on her temple was beginning to heal up, her black hair covering it well. With the injury now nearly out of sight, Mr. & Mrs. Duke thought their daughter would begin to go back to normal. The nine year old had been having her fair share of nightmares after the accident, screaming fits and temper tantrums she never did before. Any other parents would have gotten their child help but with her mother being so busy all the time and her father's need to live in blissful ignorance, Valerie was left to deal with her declining mental health on her own. Mrs. Duke didn't like to think of Valerie's mental health as declining. In fact, she didn't like to think of Valerie's mental health at all. As a nurse, she could easily recognize the signs and yet chose to ignore them, as they would go away on their own.