Chapter One Hundred Nine
The First Steps
The country house. Four months after Kat's first word. Late summer.
Kat had been pulling herself up for weeks.
She would grab the edge of the coffee table, the leg of the couch, the rungs of her crib, and hoist herself onto unsteady feet. She would stand there, wobbling, her eyes wide, her mouth determined.
And then she would fall.
"She's so close," Maya said.
She sat on the floor, Kat in front of her, Leo beside her.
"She's stubborn," Leo said.
"Like her father."
"Like her mother."
"Like her grandmother."
They laughed.
Kat looked at them.
And then she let go.
---
The first step – The living room.
She took one step.
Then another.
Then another.
"Leo," Maya whispered. "She's walking."
"She's walking toward the door."
"Where is she going?"
"I don't know."
Kat reached the door.
She looked back at her parents.
And then she walked through.
---
The garden – The same time.
Maya and Leo followed.
Kat was standing in the middle of the path, her feet bare, her toes curling in the grass. She was staring at the roses.
"She came to the garden," Maya said.
"She came to Katerina's garden."
"Why?"
"I don't know. But I think she's trying to tell us something."
Kat took another step.
Then another.
Then another.
She stopped in front of the rose bush—the one the original Katerina had planted, the one where her ashes had been scattered.
"Ka," she said.
"She knows," Maya whispered.
"Knows what?"
"Knows where she came from. Knows who she is."
Kat reached out.
Touched the rose.
The petals were soft. Red. Alive.
She smiled.
---
The gathering – The living room. Afternoon.
The family gathered.
Lilith. David. Marcus. Eleanor. The younger Katerina. Sam. Delia. Morrison. Irene. Patel. All of them. All of her village.
"She walked to the garden," Maya said.
"To Katerina's garden," Leo added.
"To the rose bush," Lilith said.
"How did you know?"
"Because I felt it. The hunger. Stirring in her. Calling her. Remembering."
"Is that dangerous?"
"It can be. But it can also be beautiful. Katerina is gone. But she's not forgotten. She lives on. In the garden. In the cottage. In this child."
The younger Katerina walked to Kat.
Knelt in front of her.
"Hello, little one," she said. "You have her name. You have her hunger. You have her hope. And now you have her garden."
Kat smiled.
"Ka," she said.
The younger Katerina wept.
Sam held her.
---
The garden – Evening.
Maya walked among the flowers.
Kat was in her arms, her eyes drooping, her mouth curved in a small smile.
"Maya."
She turned.
Lilith stood at the edge of the garden.
"How do you feel?" Lilith asked.
"Different."
"Different how?"
"Different because I'm not scared anymore. Different because I trust her. Different because I trust myself. Different because I think she's going to be extraordinary."
"That's growth."
"It's terrifying."
"Good. Fear means you're alive."
Lilith walked to her.
Looked at the baby.
"She has your eyes."
"And Katerina's stubbornness."
"She's going to need it."
"I know."
Lilith touched Kat's face.
"You are loved, little Katerina. You are wanted. You are enough. And when the hunger whispers—and it will whisper—you will remember who you are. Not a monster. A woman. A woman who chooses. A woman who loves. A woman who lives."
Kat opened her eyes.
"Ka," she said.
Lilith smiled.
"Yes, little one. Ka."
---
The porch – Night.
Maya sat on the porch swing.
Leo sat beside her. Kat slept in her arms.
The stars were bright. The moon was full. The world was quiet.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Different."
"Different how?"
"Different because I'm not afraid anymore. Different because I trust her. Different because I trust myself. Different because I think she's going to be okay."
"That's growth."
"It's terrifying."
"Good. Fear means you're alive."
She leaned into him.
He put his arm around her.
"I love you," she said.
"I know."
"Say it back."
"I love you, Maya. I love you. I love you. I love you."
"Again."
"I love you."
"Again."
She kissed him.
"I love you too."
The stars shone.
The moon glowed.
And Maya—the daughter of former servants, the granddaughter of a former goddess, the mother of a new generation—sat on the porch swing, held by the man she loved, her daughter in her arms, and felt something she had never felt before.
Hope.
---
End of Chapter One Hundred Nine