I nod nervously.
“Natasha,” I hear Cameron yell from the front door.
“In here,” Joshua calls out.
Cameron walks in and his face drops. He sits on the other side of me on the bed. “Are you ok, babe?” he asks.
“No, she’s not,” Joshua answers for me.
“It’s the rain,” Cameron whispers.
“Huh?”
“It’s the rain. It’s making me think of it, too.”
“What do you mean?” Joshua asks.
“It was raining heavy for days when Natasha was running and hiding. The day with the…” He stops midsentence, unsure what to say.
Joshua squeezes me to his chest just that little bit harder.
“Make it stop, Cam,” I whisper through my tears.
The lightning crashes and I lose control, slapping my hands over my ears as I cower and curl into Joshua with fright.
“Jesus.” He holds me tight.
The lightning cracks again, and I cry out loud, holding my hands over my ears.
“Give her something!” Joshua snaps.
“Like what?”
“A fucking sedative.”
“I do have her migraine medication with me in case she needed it,” he replies.
I begin to cry out loud.
“Christ,” Cameron mutters as he stands.
“Fine. Hurry up.”
The last thing I remember is Cameron giving me a needle and Joshua carrying me to the shower. I fall into an almost zombie state as my brain tries to shut out the horror.
“It’s ok, Presh. I’m here. I’ve got you, baby.”
The horror of post-traumatic stress lives within me. I am sombre and I’m tired. I don’t now where I want to be, but I know it isn’t here, dealing with this.
The trip from the airport to the hotel our temporary home in L. A. – is made in complete silence. It’s 1am and Ben, who is driving, has just had an altercation with a photographer at the airport. He was only trying to protect me. The photographer tried to grab me to get his shot when Ben lost it, pushed him, sending the photographer flying until he fell over.
They will try and sue him, they always do.
Is this our new life?
Paparazzi will go into overdrive with the news that we have returned and will all be waiting for the first shots. What a mess. Joshua is wound up and nobody is speaking. After my little breakdown on Tuesday, I spent the next two days in bed with Cameron and Joshua fussing over me. Trying to will me back to life.
It worked… just.
Joshua has insisted that Cameron goes and stays with Adrian and Bridget for a few days. Cameron is struggling, too, and I know my husband is concerned for his beloved brother. We have all noticed that he hasn’t been his carefree self since we have been in Kamala. Cameron’s mind is preoccupied with regret. Could we have saved Amelie if we had done things differently? We will never get the chance to know now, and I think that’s half the battle: the feeling of helplessness we all share.