Chapter 107: The Absence of Anger

Leitana closed the door behind her softly, but she didn’t step away. She leaned her back against the wood, arms wrapped around herself, eyes distant as Avery’s words looped in her mind like a song she couldn’t shake.

“You never get angry.”

She tested the sentence silently, turning it over, searching for cracks. Leitana knew herself better than most people ever would. She hadn’t gone to fancy schools like the ones in America, hadn’t learned big books or clever arguments, but she understood things quickly. Numbers made sense when others stumbled. Stories stayed clear in her head long after others forgot. People’s hearts, she could usually feel them even when they tried to hide.

But anger?

She closed her eyes and walked backward through memory.

Back in Vanuatu. Marita, her best friend, always taking her things, her one good pencil, the tiny shell she’d found on the beach, breaking it in two.

One day Marita had even dropped the small figurine of Mother Mary by mistake, snapping it clean in half. Leitana had stared at the broken pieces in her palm, chest tight, throat burning. She’d felt hurt, deep, aching hurt but no fire. No shout. No wish to break something of hers too. She’d just picked up the halves, glued them together later with sap from a tree, and kept them anyway.

She tried again. The day Charles slapped her hard across the face the first week she arrived in America. The sting had bloomed hot on her cheek, tears instant, shock freezing her whole body. But anger? She remembered fear and confusion but not rage.

Even when Ravial had lifted her off the ground by the throat that first terrible night when she’d slapped him in front of the farmhand because he’d humiliated her, she’d felt terror, humiliation, desperation. She’d slapped because she wanted him to stop, because she couldn’t breathe, because she was afraid. But looking back now… she didn’t remember fury. Just pain. Just survival.

Her heart beat faster. Too fast.

She shook her head hard. “No. Dat can’t be right. Mi human. Humans get angry.”

But the more she searched, the emptier the space felt. No memory of screaming. No memory of wanting to break something. No memory of hate that burned hot and long.

She pressed her palms to her eyes.

A soft tap on her shoulder.

She startled, dropping her hands.

The door opened a crack. Clara peeked in, concern creasing her brow.

“Missus? You okay? You’ve been standin’ there for long time.”

Leitana forced a smile, small and automatic. “Mi okay, Clara. Tank yu. Mama… she get dinner already?”

Clara nodded. “Yes, missus. She's eatin’ now.”

Leitana exhaled. “Tank yu. Mi go check on her.”

Clara hesitated. “Are you sure you're okay?”

Leitana’s smile softened, real this time. “Mi sure. Go sleep, Clara. Tank yu for everyting.”

Clara gave a small curtsy and left.

Leitana walked down the hall to the guest room. She knocked once, soft.

“Come in,” came the quiet reply.

Alyssa sat on the edge of the bed in a plain nightgown, phone in her lap. She looked up when Leitana entered, expression flickering, surprise, guilt, and something that looked like hope.

“Leitana,” she said, setting the phone aside. She patted the space beside her. “Come sit, sweetheart.”

Leitana crossed the room and sat. Close. Not touching, but close.

“How yu feel, Mama?” Leitana asked gently. “Trip long?”

Evelyn smiled, it looked thin and practiced. “I’m fine. Just tired.” Her eyes searched Leitana’s face. “And you? Your relationship with Ravial… is he treating you well?”

Leitana felt the question land differently now. Avery’s words echoed: “She’s here to spy.” She kept her face open and soft.

“He good to mi,” she said honestly, leaving it at that for the moment.

Evelyn’s smile wobbled. “That’s… that’s good, sweetheart. Really good.”

Leitana tilted her head. “Mama… mi wan ask yu somet’ing.”

Evelyn’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, her face suddenly paling slightly, then silenced it.

“Tomorrow,” she said quickly. “We talk tomorrow. I’m very tired tonight.”

Leitana nodded, hiding her disappointment. “Okay. Sleep good, Mama.”

She stood.

Evelyn caught her wrist, lightly, hesitantly.

“Leitana?”

Leitana paused.

“I’m… glad you’re happy,” Evelyn whispered. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Leitana looked down at the hand on her wrist, thin, trembling, then back at her mother’s face.

“Mi know,” she said quietly. “Goodnight, Mama.”

She left the room.

Back in the master suite, Ravial still wasn’t home.

Leitana took a long shower, hot water pounding against her shoulders, steam filling the glass. She let her mind wander, letting the questions drift.

She changed into her soft cotton nightdress, the one with tiny embroidered flowers along the neckline.

She knelt at the foot of the bed, hands folded, eyes closed.

“Our Father who art in heaven…”

She prayed slowly, carefully.

For the orphanage, Her Sisters, The Nuna, the little ones, the mango tree in the yard that still dropped fruit every season.

Praying that they were safe and fed.

For Avery, she prayed. “Papa God, help her forgive. Help her heart no stay hard. Help her see love again.”

For Mama. “Papa God, give her courage. Help her choose right. Help her no stay afraid.”

For Celeste. “Let her rest now. Let her soul find peace. Help mi help her.”

For Willow. “Open her heart tomorrow. Let her speak truth. Let her no stay blind with greed and ambition.”

For Ravial. “Keep him safe. Keep him close. Help him find de light he think he lost. Help him know he no alone.”

And last, for herself. “Papa God… why mi no get angry? Why mi heart no burn when it should? Show mi. Help mi understand. Mi human. Mi feel everyting else. Why no anger? Mi trust Yu. Show mi plis.”

She stayed on her knees a long time.

Then she climbed into bed, pulled the covers up, and she eventually she slept off

Hours later deep in the night, she woke up suddenly.

Her eyes snapped open.

The room was dark, only faint moonlight slipping through the curtains.

But she felt it.

Eyes on her.

Her heart thudded rapidly in her chest at the feeling of being watched.

“Who dere?” she whispered.

A shadow detached from the far wall, tall, silent, familiar.

Ravial.

She relaxed instantly, a smile pulling on her face, sleepy and warm.

“Ravial…”

He crossed the room without sound, shedding his jacket as he moved.

She pushed the covers back, arms already reaching.

He scooped her up, effortless, her legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

“Why yu late?” she mumbled, still half-asleep, face pressing into the warm hollow of his throat.

“Many things,” he said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed with her still in his lap. “Meetings. Loose ends. Nothing that matters now.”

She hummed, nuzzling closer, already drifting again.

“Mi wait for yu,” she whispered.

His arms tightened.

“I know.”

He kissed her forehead.

“Sleep, little lamb.”

She sighed, content, safe and let herself fall back into dreams.

Ravial didn’t move.

He just held her.

Listening to her breathe.

Watching over her in the dark.