Hidden Heart

by Camelia Miron Skiba

  Alessandro looked out the living room window and saw Tessa kneeling in the mud, far away in the valley. She screamed and threw her arms in the air, but he couldn’t make sense of what she yelled.

  “I’ll get her,” he said, when Chiara joined him by the window.

  “Don’t,” Chiara said.

  He turned his head sideways and looked at her. “Why not?”

  Chiara sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “She said more today than all the words she’s spoken since we got here.”

  He turned to face her, waiting.

  She continued looking out the window and said, “She is angry and wants all of us gone, of course. But this could be a step towards getting out of the hell she’s living in.” She looked briefly at him, smiled, then looked back out the window. “Years of therapy have taught me that hiding behind silence is a way of self-torture; she is past that, I think. I hope she starts yelling at us more often.”

  “You okay?” He asked surprised at her revelation.

  She shrugged and tilted her head. “I’m hanging in there. I took control over my own life once I realized if I stay depressed and scared, the only one really suffering is me.”

  Alessandro sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, then squeezed the back of his neck. He had been driving back and forth between Tessa’s cabin and Bucharest so often, he knew every curve, every road sign; where the mountains became hills and where empty fields replaced the hills. He’d leave for Bucharest at the crack of dawn every Tuesday and returned late at night on Thursday. Eva came to work with him as the business office manager and their collaboration worked smoothly for both of them. He hired two financial specialists and an accountant and together they’d developed financial strategies for several companies they signed consulting contracts with.

  Victor’s company was one of his first clients. They met on a regular basis. The notary’s disappearance turned into a nationwide search. Some kids playing on an abandoned field near Bucharest had discovered her mutilated body. The advanced stage of putrefaction made it hard to recognize, but eventually the forensics confirmed her identity. Victor worked with the investigators and multiple court hearings resulted in blockage of her accounts. Unfortunately the notary’s father used his influence and political power to buy out media and court people. More hearings went underway with more farmers that came forward and testified against the notary. It was a slow and strenuous process, and at times even Victor doubted the farmers would receive the money that had been stolen from them.

  Now, Alessandro looked back out to where Tessa knelt, drenched in the rain. He wanted to go to her, but trusted that Chiara knew what she was talking about. He waited.

  Tessa returned home. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting in the rain, but her knees were numb with cold. Her throat felt raw from screaming. She couldn’t stop shivering and her teeth chattered. She began to undress in the hallway, dropping her coat, her scarf and her boots in a corner.

  She walked by the living room and saw her sisters and Alessandro sitting on the sofas. The fireplace had a nice fire going, and the dry wood crackled from time to time, accompanying the soothing music playing on the radio. Her sisters read while Alessandro’s fingers typed vigorously on the laptop.

  He saw her first.

  Octavia and Chiara lifted their heads at the same time, followed his gaze and turned to see Tessa standing at the base of the stairs, looking into the mirror. Her face was dirty, her hands muddy as well as her pants. Her lips looked blue and water dripped from her hair, which lay flat against her scalp. She went up the stairs, not saying a word.

  For the first time since the attack, she didn’t have any help as she prepared her hot bath. Nor did she wait for anyone to tell her to eat. She helped herself to some noodle soup, sat at the table in the kitchen, and ate alone. And for the first time, Daniel didn’t visit her sleep.

  When she gave her sisters her mama’s letter, she felt a sense of freedom, as if a burden had lifted off of her shoulders. Her secret—no longer a secret—didn’t weigh so much on her heart. Finally sharing it with her sisters took away some of the heaviness. She’d screamed at God for letting Daniel attack her and killing her unborn baby whom she finally accepted as being part of her, a part of her that she wanted to keep alive and see growing.

  But her anger with God wasn’t nearly as big as the anger with herself. For not seeing Daniel for who he really was. For not standing up for herself when Daniel attacked her. For trusting the notary when she signed the contracts without reading them. It was her doing and hers only and she wanted to take full responsibility for it.

  That meant doing something.

  Take action.

  Move forward.

  ***

  The next morning, when Octavia handed her the pills, she refused them. Instead she said, “I need to talk to both of you; the sooner the better.”

  Shortly, both sisters showed up in the living room where Tessa sat quietly in one of the chairs. Alessandro started the fire earlier that morning before driving back to Bucharest and the room felt warm and inviting.

  They sat on the couch opposite from Tessa and looked at her with somber eyes.

  She glanced their way then fixed her gaze on the fire’s flicker. She kept her palms together resting on her lap. Tessa spoke in a soft voice, swallowing hard the knot that formed in her throat.

  “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so many times…it’s just hard to be me these days. I know you made a huge effort to leave your own lives to come and tend to me. I feel awful to put that kind of burden on both of you.”

  She paused and reached for a tissue to wipe her tears, then crumpled it in one palm. She continued, “I am who I am and I cannot change a damn thing. What I need you to do is go back to your own homes, and let me get on my feet. If trying to kill myself is what scares you, I promise I no longer will try to do that. Nor will I take any pills anymore. I don’t want to die…I just want to figure out how to face myself in the mirror, try to make peace with myself…I need to learn a lot and I need space. Go home, please.” She stood.

  She didn’t feel her stomach knot. She didn’t feel the numbness and haze the pills made her feel before. Instead, she felt alive. She felt the blood pulsing in her veins. She felt her mind clear and her legs steady.

  “Tessa, wait,” Octavia said and stood. She came near Tessa and took her hand. Tears sparkled in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry for all the years you grew up alone… for all the times you needed me, and I wasn’t there to help you… for all the times you needed a shoulder to cry on or a secret to share, and I wasn’t there for you; for all the pain it caused you to find out about Mama’s affair… about your biological father, but one thing I am not sorry for and I will not apologize is that you are my sister, no matter what, and will always be…you can’t take that away from me.”

  When Octavia pulled her into a hug, Tessa’s first reaction was to push her away.

  She had crossed her arms on her chest before Octavia’s arms circled her shoulders. Ever since the assault, human physical contact was something she thought she’d never be able to accept without feeling horror and pain. She had jerked and drew away each time her sisters touched her during the walks. And the only times Alessandro had touched her was when she’d had nightmares and he’d kept her under the cold jets to wake her up. Once awake, she’d changed her pajamas while he waited for her outside the bathroom. She’d walked by herself back to her room, still shivering and holding onto the walls, but no one came closer to touch her. The comfort of being touched, caressed, hugged or held seemed to be another thing Daniel took away from her.

  Tessa forced herself to stay within the warmth of her sister’s embrace. Tiny shallow breaths convulsed her chest, allowing herself the protection of her crossed arms between them.

  Octavia didn’t let go, but began rocking her side to side, holding an arm around Tessa’s shoulder and stroking her hair with the other. She exchanged looks with Chiara, who wiped
her tears away and nodded softly.

  “I can’t change the years we’ve lost, but I’d like to be a part of what you’ll make of the ones to come…” Octavia moved Tessa gently away from her and looked into her eyes. Tears left traces on their faces, but they both managed to smile warily at each other.

  “I doubt I’ll make anything good of the years to come,” Tessa said, unable to stop the bitterness in her voice.

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Tessa. I know it sounds like a cliché, but what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger. Daniel already took too much away from you, don’t let him take everything.”

  Hearing Daniel’s name out loud made Tessa flinch. She felt cold instantly. She shivered and rubbed her arms, then walked away from Octavia, toward the fireplace. She looked at the dancing flames and continued to idly rub her arms.

  Octavia came closer, “We all have our own demons to fight. What makes us different than others is that we fight them, with everything we have and we take our lives back. You’re the only one that can change the way you feel.”

  “How?” Tessa spoke, anger rising in her voice. She turned her head away, but Octavia put a finger under her chin and forced her to turn back and look at her.

  “By accepting that what happened to you was not your fault. You haven’t done anything to deserve this,” Octavia said.

  “But I didn’t do anything to prevent or stop it either.” Tessa dropped to the floor, pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on top of them.

  Octavia did the same.

  Throughout this exchange, Chiara sat quietly and watched her sisters. She cried with them, listened to them; she felt their anguish, their surrender. But she also felt that there was hope. Hope they’d be part of each other’s life, but also that her younger sister would heal. In time—like she did.

  Now, Chiara stood and joined her sisters by the fireplace.

  “I was only twelve when I left our house and I remember how it felt to see the world back then. I was only a child, sheltered by the love of our family. I had with me memories of lots of laughter, dad’s endless attempts to make me a better person, Mama’s warm hugs… little did I know that someone I trusted with my life, someone that was like a father figure to me would soon take all of it away.” Chiara stopped and took a deep breath. Anxiety churned her stomach, but she needed to talk. Spill the poison that her years of physical and mental abuse had cankered her soul.

  She took another deep breath, and continued, “There were times I wanted to die, jump from the trapeze without reaching for the hand extended to catch me. But I was too scared to do it. Instead, I let him manipulate me, abuse me, until I had nothing. I laughed for the cameras, pretended to be what I wasn’t just to please the crowds. The circus became the most sought after and we were invited to perform everywhere. I was a shining star everyone envied. What no one knew was that my carriage turned into a pumpkin most nights when my tormentor called me into his trailer and forced me to watch him masturbate. He told me I was a nasty, dirty girl and that I liked it, he knew I liked it. His wife was there watching me watching him. To this day I can’t see a naked man.”

  Neither Tessa nor Octavia moved, looking shocked at their sister’s disclosure. They watched her intently, waiting for her to continue.

  Chiara shrugged in an attempt to shake the memory away. She dried her cheeks, sighed and continued, “The Christmas I didn’t come home it wasn’t because I had my appendix removed, like I told Mama, but because I was accused of murdering him. I spent three months behind bars. From the top of the world where the crowds had me, I fell faster than if I’d have fallen from my trapeze. And there was no hand to catch me.”

  She looked at Tessa and forced a smile. Tessa, mouth agape, stared at her. Chiara put her arm around Tessa’s shoulders, “Octavia is right; we all have demons to fight. But we stand up and fight them. He can’t touch me and when he comes during my sleep, I tell him I’m no longer afraid of him. I allowed him for too long to rob me from living a normal life, but will not spend another second allowing him to be part of it.”

  Three women. Three stories. Three lives. But above all, three sisters. They sat, crying and opening up, unlocking painful memories. When they finished, there was a bond between them they hadn’t felt before. It was not the bond of blood. It was the bond of heart.

  Chapter 15

  “Okay, Tessa, you can do this,” Chiara said. She dipped the cloth into cold water, squeezed quickly and wiped off Tessa’s sweaty forehead and face, then placed it on her upper chest. “Come on, big gulps of air, like this, don’t stop breathing, it will go away faster.”

  Another jolt of pain rushed through Tessa’s body and her scream broke against the night’s silence. She pressed one hand on top of her head while pushing her other into a fist against her stomach. Since she stopped taking her pills, this was the worst night. She needed time to adjust to no more drugs and the pain split her body like a saw cutting through a tree trunk.

  “I don’t think it was a good idea to stop so abruptly,” Octavia said, caressing Tessa’s hair. “Maybe smaller dosages in the beginning, until the brain starts functioning normally?”

  “Maybe you should take half of a pill?” Chiara said and rubbed Tessa’s shoulder when the pain ceased.

  “No…I…don’t want…any more…pills, please, throw them away,” Tessa whispered.

  Alessandro entered her room holding a mug of tea. His eyes locked with hers while he neared the bed and put the mug on the nightstand. He looked at Tessa with pained, tired eyes, sighed, then brushed a hand through his hair. It was his first night back and Chiara told him about Tessa’s refusal to take any medication, her willingness to take steps towards getting her life back. But she didn’t speak to him as openly as she spoke to her sisters.

  “Thank you,” Tessa said and forced a smile.

  Almost instantly another pain blurred her vision and her body shook violently. She squeezed her head between her palms willing the pain to ease up. It didn’t last as long as the previous pain, but it left her wilted. She rolled onto her left side, pulled the covers and closed her eyes, catching her breath. Minutes passed by and the pain returned, but not as intense as before. The intervals between the spasms lengthened until after midnight when she broke into a feverish spell and became delirious.

  “Give her a shot, give her a pill, do something,” Octavia said checking Tessa’s fever again.

  “I’m not a doctor, remember? I can give her a shot, but the medication the doctor prescribed her would get her back in the fog she’d been. We promised that no matter what happens to her, we aren’t giving her those stupid drugs; do you want her to be mad at us again?” Chiara exchanged the wet cloth on Tessa’s forehead with another one, colder.

  “What if she caught pneumonia when she stood in the rain days ago? Are these the side effects from the medication? What do we know about interrupting such powerful drugs?”

  Chiara shook her head, then stood without answering her sister and walked to the window. It began raining again sometime in the afternoon and it hadn’t stopped since. She opened the window and fresh, crisp air entered the room. The chill quickly spread into her body, making her shiver.

  Chiara took a few deep breaths, closed the window and returned refreshed to Tessa’s bed. Tessa mumbled something, mixing Romanian and English, sometimes raising her voice, sometimes whispering. She kicked the bed, tossed and convulsed, then stopped and lay inert for a few minutes only to start convulsing again. Chiara took a seat near the bed and waited in silence.

  Octavia checked Tessa’s temperature one more time—no change. The fever kept creeping up for a while, then stabilized around forty degrees Celsius for several hours. Just before dawn, after she placed another cold cloth on Tessa’s forehead, Octavia noticed the fever ceased and her sister stopped tossing. She turned to Chiara to tell her, but Chiara slept curled in a chair. She took a blanket and covered Chiara, then sat in the other chair across from the bed and instantly fell asleep.r />
  ***

  “What are you doing?” Octavia yelled at Tessa rushing to her side.

  Tessa stopped and turned to see her sister running her way. Octavia still wore her pajamas, her cloak hung half open and her hair tousled around her face. Her hot breath left a trail of steam before dissipating into the cold morning air.

  “I’m digging my grave,” she said when Octavia neared. Her cold and cramped fingers gripped the shovel’s handle as she continued digging.

  “You’re doing what? Why?” Octavia’s brows drew closer as she tried to catch her breath. She woke up earlier and her first thought was to check on Tessa, but she was nowhere to be found. While Chiara and Alessandro looked frantically for her in the house, Octavia rushed out the door. She saw Tessa far away using a shovel.

  “I’m burying old Tessa.”

  “The soil must be hard as rock,” Octavia said.

  Tessa kept hitting the ground, then put a foot on top of the shovel and pushed even harder. She’d made a pile of dirt already and a fairly deep pit.

  Octavia’s eyes grew huge on her face. Tessa’s words made her shiver. She feared her sister was delirious, but she had no idea how she’d stop Tessa from continuing digging. She didn’t look like a crazy person; her face was flushed, her eyes clear; no signs of madness.

  “Tessa, come on, you’re too weak; you’ll get pneumonia or something worse. Let me take you inside,” Octavia tried to grab Tessa’s elbow and take her away.

  “I’m almost ready,” Tessa said, lifting a big chunk of dirt and tossing it on top of the pile. She pulled a photo out of her pocket, folded it one more time and, kneeling, she placed it at the bottom of the hole. Then she stood, brushed her pants and picked the shovel up. Covering the hole took less than the time to dig it. She lifted two thin, small branches already fixed together as a cross and stuck it on top of the mound, then pushed the soil with her bare hands around it to force it to stay straight.