Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
I brought both hands to my mouth. I kissed the back of Asher hand, and then the back of Flame’s. I led them forward, leaving our friends behind. I ran my thumb over Flame’s pulse. It was racing. When we stopped on the shallow bank of the river, the water mere inches away, Flame whispered, “Maddie…” I turned to my husband and noted the distress so clearly inhabiting his dark gaze.
“You never got to say goodbye, Flame, to Isaiah. They took him from you, when they cast his ashes in this river. They stole your rightful goodbye.” I lay my head on his shoulder. “It is time you said farewell… we are here for you to say goodbye to your baby brother.” Flame’s breathing became erratic. I looked to Asher. His face was stricken. “Isaiah was your brother too, Asher,” I said softly. Tears fell down Asher’s cheeks, yet he did not move. “Although you did not know him, Isaiah was your older brother.”
I cleared my throat and stared down at the river. A small wooden bridge was situated beside us. “I did not know you, Isaiah,” I started. Asher and Flame tensed. “I wish I had known you.” I smiled, imagining a baby with dark hair and dark eyes just like the two Cade brothers who towered over me. “I imagine you would have grown up to be tall and strong, like Asher and Flame.” I felt a teardrop from Asher hit the back of my hand. Flame remained unmoving. I prayed my words were soothing his jagged soul. The flow of the river spurred me to continue.
“You were a blessing. Every baby is.” Flame choked on a cry. I wanted nothing more than to hold him. But I had to hold Asher too. “You were loved, little one. You were loved so much by your mother, and by your brother… Josiah.” As I said his name, Flame stepped away. He tried to edge back from the river, but I held on, keeping him close. “You were pure and good. You deserved much more from life than you received.” The gentle breeze wrapped through my hair. I could not help but picture our baby in a young Flame’s arms, crying for help, its little breaths limited when that help never came. As that image hit me, the sheer severity of Flame’s trauma revealed itself to my already bruised heart. To witness such a tragedy, to have to endure it when you did not understand the world, was surely the worst. I wanted to wrap Flame in a warm embrace and never let him go, to ensure no one in this messed up world could ever get to him, to ensure he will never feel a lesser being again.
I had to finish this, I had to see it through.
“But God wanted you to come home,” I continued. “Your mama needed you back in her arms.” I felt our baby move and my face crumpled with sadness for the boy who never got to live, who never got to know Flame or Asher, who did not get to feel their fraternal love. “God took you from an evil man who would harm you.”
Flame was panting, struggling to keep calm. When I turned to Asher, his cheeks were coated in tears. His eyes were red from the intensity of his crying. But he stood stoic and strong. Both of my Cade brothers did. They had no idea how proud of them I was, or how truly miraculous they were.
“He removed you from an evil that he could not let you endure, and He placed you in His safety, and in the arms of your loving mama.” I sniffed back my tears. “But in doing so you, Isaiah, you never said goodbye to the big brother who always tried to keep you safe. Who held you, comforted you, and loved you, up until you breathed your last breath, passing from this cruel world into one of peace and light and love.” I paused, to recover my voice. “A big brother who believed he had hurt you in some way, a big brother who punished himself for it, every day. This, when all he did was try—try to love you for who you were and to pray you would never leave him.”
In my peripheral vision I saw Flame drop his head. As I looked up to him, his eyes were closed. But from the corners, tears fell. It was my undoing. Turning into Flame’s arm, I raised his hand, now clasped in mine, and kissed it. “Today we have come to say goodbye, Isaiah. To tell you that you were so loved, and you have been missed. You are missed every single day.” The sun began to set, rays flickering off the mirror-like surface of the river, casting a light that resembled the sparkle of diamonds. “I did not have the best start in life,” I admitted. Flame stilled. Looking up at my husband, I waited until he looked at me.