A Charmed Life by Charlotte French

Author:Charlotte French [French, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Phoebe fell asleep in Hazel’s arms. Hazel didn’t dare move as Phoebe’s head rested on her shoulder, Phoebe’s arm hooked around her waist, clutching at Hazel’s bathrobe.

When Hazel’s legs began to go numb from kneeling on the floor for so long, she attempted to shift and lean back against the bed for support. But Phoebe whimpered, burrowing further into Hazel’s shoulder with a small whine.

Nick placed his hand on Phoebe’s back as he stood. He retrieved a pillow from Phoebe’s bed and reached out toward Hazel’s shoulder only to stop an inch away from touching her. He cleared his throat to get her attention instead.

Hazel glanced up at him, eyebrows raised in a silent question. He pointed to the pillow.

“For your back,” he whispered.

Hazel nodded and leaned forward just enough for Nick to tuck the pillow behind her. She noticed he was very careful to not touch her in any way.

“Better?” he said.

“Yes, thank you,” she whispered back, stroking Phoebe’s hair away from her damp cheek.

Nick perched on the edge of Phoebe’s bed for a moment, his elbows propped on his knees.

“How often do these nightmares happen?” Hazel said.

Nick shook his head. “Nearly every night after Marissa left. But they’ve tapered off to maybe once a month. I thought that school was helping. And when she picked out Luna, I was so sure she would never have another one again.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Guess I was wrong.”

Hazel glanced down to see Phoebe’s eyes closed, her dark lashes shadowed against her flushed cheek. Something in Hazel’s chest squeezed. She’d seen students in distress before but this felt different, deeper, on a level that hurt Hazel nearly as much as it hurt Phoebe.

“Does she have any contact with her mother?” Hazel said softly.

She didn’t look at Nick as she spoke. She knew the unpleasant impact that question would have.

“No,” Nick replied, his voice gruff. “Marissa hasn’t contacted either of us in three years.”

He pushed to his feet, massaging one shoulder with a grimace.

“I think I’ll go get some coffee started,” he said.

Hazel didn’t protest as Nick made his escape to the kitchen. No doubt he needed a reprieve after many hours with Phoebe. The strain would be exhausting.

Hazel gathered Phoebe up into her arms. She was surprisingly light and the scent of sage and peppermint lingered in her hair.

As Hazel tucked Phoebe into bed, Phoebe’s fingers curled around Hazel’s wrist.

“Don’t leave,” she whimpered.

Hazel knelt beside the bed and pressed the back of her hand to Phoebe’s cheek.

“I’m right here, Phoebe,” she whispered. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Phoebe gave a sleepy sigh and wiggled deeper into her pillow, never releasing her grip on Hazel’s wrist. Hazel trailed one fingertip along Phoebe’s nose, across her cheekbone, and down her chin. She watched the steady rise and fall of Phoebe’s chest as she slipped further into sleep, calm, relaxed, and quiet—worlds apart from the chaos from before.

Once Phoebe was asleep, Hazel slowly released herself from Phoebe’s grip. She tucked the blankets a little tighter beneath Phoebe’s chin and kissed her forehead.

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