Dawn of Eve, MJ Howson [lightweight ebook reader TXT] 📗

pajamas. After inspecting them, she returned them to the drawer and went to the back of the closet. She found a set of blue silk pajamas from her mother’s collection and put them on.

Dawn walked to her bed and slid beneath the covers, repositioning Eve to rest against the pillow beside her. The day’s paper was lying on the nightstand. Beneath it was Eve’s diary. Dawn grabbed the paper and started browsing the articles. As always, the art and fashion pages called to her. A new gallery had recently opened at 20 Hudson Yards. After reading about the owner and works on display, Dawn said, “I wonder if my new paintings will be good enough to get into this gallery.” She glanced at Eve and asked, “What do you think?”

Read my diary.

The fragile voice echoed throughout the bedroom. Frustration and confusion enveloped Dawn. Her head whipped back and forth as she looked around, hoping to see someone. Anyone. But it was just her and Eve. Dawn’s voice fluttered as she asked, “Who . . . who said that?”

After several seconds, the voice returned, louder and more insistent than before.

Read my diary.

There was something familiar in the tone, if not the words. A sense of pleading felt woven within the echo. Dawn’s eyes widened as waves of clarity began to wash over her. She whispered, “I . . . I know that voice.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as reality replaced imagination. She lowered the newspaper and set her gaze upon Eve. Dawn’s heart raced as her mind slowly came to a conclusion she both dreaded and desired.

“That’s . . . you that I’m hearing,” Dawn said. “From my dreams. Isn’t it?” Dawn picked Eve up and placed the doll on her lap. As she did, Eve’s eyes clicked and clacked open and closed. Dawn ran her fingers through Eve’s curly hair. “Tell me, Eve. Please.”

Dawn leaned closer until her face was mere inches from Eve’s. The doll’s jewel-like sapphire eyes shimmered as Eve stared back. Dawn’s pounding heart reverberated throughout her body. She knew deep down Eve was inside trying to escape. Dawn leaned closer to the doll’s ear and said, “It’s okay, Eve. You can trust me. The doctor told me that trust is a two-way street. I . . . I know it’s you in there.”

Several seconds passed before Eve finally spoke. When she did, her pink-painted lips did not move. Her jaw remained stationary, and her jewel-like eyes stayed open. But Dawn knew the voice belonged to Eve.

“Read my diary,” Eve said, her voice no longer echoing.

Dawn looked at Eve in awe, studying her face. She brushed the doll’s rosy cheeks and ran her fingers through her wavy copper locks. She leaned closer to Eve, gazed into her sapphire blue eyes, and said, “Again.”

“Read my diary,” Eve said.

“I . . . I knew it.” Dawn’s eyes welled with tears. “I just knew it.” She’d felt drawn to the doll since first laying eyes on her at Zuni. What started in her nightmares was finally free. Everything suddenly made sense to her.

Dawn pulled Eve close and hugged her. She wondered if this is how a mother felt the first time she held her newborn child. Dawn whispered in Eve’s ear, “It’s been you, hasn’t it?” Dawn kissed Eve’s curly red locks and sighed. “Since this morning. You’ve . . . you’ve been trying to come out.” She placed Eve by her side against the pillow. “Janet said I was the one. She was right, wasn’t she?” Dawn waited for Eve to respond. When she didn’t, she asked, “Well?”

“Read my diary.”

“Your diary?” Dawn frowned and stared at Eve. “After everything that’s happened, that’s . . . that’s all you’ve got to say?” She waited for any sort of response, but Eve remained silent. Dawn’s disappointment in the doll’s limited vocabulary quickly faded away. She smiled, knowing Eve was speaking. “Well, okay. Have it your way.”

Dawn wiped her cheeks dry, grabbed the diary from the nightstand, and placed the book on her lap. She pulled Eve close as she bundled the sheets around the two of them. The camel-colored leather diary felt comforting in her hands. Dawn felt a sense of peace slowly envelope her and Eve. The darkness that had consumed her since the miscarriage faded away.

The pages snapped as Dawn flipped through the book, searching for the end of the section about Charles. As she rifled along, Dawn couldn’t stop smiling, knowing Eve was free. She reached the next entry, dated June. “Here we are,” Dawn said. She turned to Eve and asked, “So, what happens next?”

Twenty Two

Billy

June 29, 2012

Eve looked across the room at Billy, flopped in his lumpy bed. The other three kids were all tucked beneath their sheets. A plate with what was left of Billy’s emerald green frosted birthday cake sat on his nightstand next to a black piggy bank. Green hand-painted dollar signs covered the small pig-shaped bank. Billy’s mother had made the bank for him in a ceramics class a few years ago. Three box fans positioned in different corners of the room pushed warm, damp air throughout the bedroom.

Tina was curled in a ball with her face buried in her pillow. The poor girl had long given up on trying to win Billy’s heart. The two barely spoke, making for many awkward moments together. Hugo was busy eating a sliver of birthday cake he’d managed to snatch from Billy’s plate shortly after everyone returned from the party. Suzie was fast asleep.

“Hey, Fats,” Billy said to Hugo.

“I told you not to call me that,” Hugo replied.

Billy pointed at the plate with the cake and said, “This is mine. Don’t even think of stealing another piece tonight.”

“Whatever.” Hugo crammed the last chunk of cake into his mouth and flung the covers over his head.

One look at Billy and anyone could tell he would grow up to become a very handsome man.