I walked behind my stepmother as we entered the house. I was still in thoughts, when we were welcomed by my father, sitting in the living room, waiting.
Lesly's lesson had only started in the afternoon, and with everything that had happened, it was already evening, later than usual for us to return.
My father eyed us, and I could see his dissatisfaction. Suppressing the impulse to step before her when his eyes found his wife, I saw him taking out two passports.
Instead of snapping because of our late arrival, he threw one of the passports on the couch table before him.
Lesly, being prompted, walked forward and bent down to take it. From where I stood, I could see the opened content in her hands, the fake picture of her and my father clearly displayed on the passport.
He had made it officially. They were now legally married.
My heart dropped into my gut, and I wanted to vomit before ripping apart both of these disgusting documents.
Besides me calling her stepmother, or 'mother' in front of my father the first time, and aside from the fact that she was presented to me and the staff as his wife, I was clear that it was just part of my father's sick game. Something behind closed doors played to his amusement, not something the whole world would acknowledge.
Lesly nodded and apparently took it better than me,
"I'm sorry for coming late; a student injured himself."
My father seemed pleased with her reaction, especially with her apology, which made this conversation sound like a real interaction between husband and wife. I gripped the lighter in my pocket while listening in, not going to my room like I normally would.
"Why was the student injured?" He asked, motioning for Lesly to take a seat across from him on the couch that faced him.
Lesly obeyed, while I stood in the background, observing.
"We are not clear for now. He is in the hospital." She seemed unwilling to disclose that a fire was the cause of his injury, and she was clever to do so. If my father heard of that, he would know that it was me.
He nodded. And after a bit of hesitation he asked her, to my surprise,
"How was your day?" My agitation was turning for the worse, as I opened the lighter soundlessly in my pocket.
"I'm tired and just want to take a shower." Lesly stood up after only sitting down a moment ago. Seeing him not disagreeing, she walked to the staircase.
My father turned to me, and I saw his annoyance with her curt behavior, as well as the infuriation he looked at me with. He was ready to punish me for arriving late at school and maybe take out his anger at his wife's clear disinterest.
However, as I was ready to get whipped, only waiting for Lesly to leave for her to not see me in the compromising position that would follow, she turned on the steps and spoke.
"Thomas, how was your day?"
My father's eyes left me, and he turned to her, the anger disappearing from his stony face.
"Good. I had a good day." He turned away from her but didn't look at me again, so I waited.
When she had reached the top of the stairs, she looked back at me. I nodded lightly, and only then did I see her leave for good.
With 'Thomas' zoning out, I could finally leave when he motioned for me with a dismissive gesture.
She had protected me yet again. The first time was when she didn't scream as I watched her on her first night here, the second time as I touched her under the table, the third time today in school, and the fourth time with lifting my father's mood just now.
I walked to my room. Lesly was already long gone. I laid in my bed and stared at the ceiling, waiting for dinner. But she wasn't there when I went downstairs, and my father wasn't as well. Fearing him having his wedding night with her, I sneaked into the garden and sat again under their window. Luckily, it was still warm enough for it to be left open. Again only hearing silence, this time contrary to yesterday, I was relieved to not hear screams, and especially not to hear moans.
While I was sure at the beginning that they had already done the deed, now I just couldn't picture her succumbing to him. Or maybe I just couldn't accept the possibility anymore.
Waiting in the silence, I wanted to finally leave for my room to take a shower when I saw the lights in their bedroom going out. Standing up and going to scrub my body to make sure there was no smell of burned flesh and hair on me, I came back to my routine, sneaking to Lesly.
There, my father had turned away from her, as both of their backs were facing each other. Maybe it was because I came earlier today than the previous nights, but his calws were not slung around her.
She was awake and saved me from my father, or my father from me, with her silence once more. I sat on the ground by her side, placing my head on the mattress while watching her.
Her hand was already placed in my direction, while her other was under her pillow. Positioning my hand near hers, not touching but with only a few inches distance, I wished for her to reach out to me.
She did not, but she also didn't retreat. After watching our hands so close, but still parted by an unsurmountable barrier, I turned to meet her eyes.
Holding her gaze, I wished for time to stop so that she would remain the little crow facing me and maybe, someday, see me as a treasure that was worth fetching back to her nest, instead of returning to her husband's arms, to her role as his wife.
Her role as my stepmother.