Where did Dad and Fable go?”
We had just stepped into the cottage.
Coming home after being gone for even just a few weeks was like coming back to a garden that had been left untended for some time—lifeless, colorless, dreadful.
“Groceries,” Ivy said, tossing her house keys into the dish by the door. “I’ll whip us up some vanilla rose moon milk.” While she walked down the hall to the kitchen, I watched from the foyer rug until she disappeared behind the kitchen’s swinging door. Then my attention turned to Mom’s door.
If I was going to take Mom’s life, it had to be at this very moment.
Three steps, and my fingers touched the brass door knob for the last time.
Upon entering the bedroom, I closed my eyes, seeing myself standing over Mom’s bed in my mind. I’m wearing the red dress, but the strap is broken again and dangling down my side. This Adora looks just like me, with braids mixed into blonde hair that had been brushed out by salty air. Except she doesn’t look to be in love, or happy, or sad, or anything.
She’s just standing there, empty, looking down at Mom as the room dims.
My eyes fall on Mom, too.
She looks like a once upon a time.
In the shadow of the other me, Mom’s fingers are clasped together against her chest as the covers are pulled up to her waist. After not seeing the sun for well over a decade, she has turned pale, though her lips remain pink. Despite her preserved perfection, the darkness that envelopes her mind is like a hidden room where only vicious things sleep.
The other me lays her hand against Mom’s cheek, and then I’m in the water with her, sucked back into the ocean, saltwater clogging my throat, filling my lungs. This time I’m under the surface with Mom, staring into scared blue eyes, and I haven’t seen them in so long that they instantly make me cry. They take me to six years old again. And even though she’s scared, she still holds me in her arms, threading her fingers into my hair like I’m her little girl. For a split-second, while we’re lost in her mind, a panic and inescapable burn in our lungs and chest taking full possession of us. I grab her hand because it’s the only thing I can do. Hold on, I want to scream, but only bubbles come out. It’s almost over, just hold on. There’s a pounding in the ocean, as though it has a pulse, a heartbeat. A knocking. A thump … thump … thump. It’s a beating in my ears. It’s dark down here, it’s cold, so cold, and we’re running out of air.
She’s going weak, and I can’t breathe.
Not until the other me pulls her hand away.
A rush of clean air slithers down my throat just as I burst into tears.
My fingers are shaking, my legs are unsteady though my feet are nailed to this spot. All I can do is watch as I slide the pillow out from under Mom’s head. My movements are robotic. My face is vacant.
I don’t pause. Not even for a second.
So, I scream at myself to stop, wait, let me say goodbye. This is so much harder than I imagined, and I don’t know if I can let go. But it doesn’t matter because the other me isn’t stopping. The other me is pressing the pillow against her face, and she swears she can feel her breathing into the cotton.
There are two of me in the room.
One is numb, a blank expression, a murderer.
The other is screaming, tears soaking her face.
If only I could unbolt my feet from the floor ...
Then I was snatched up and thrown against a wall.
Bright blue-moon eyes were staring back at me. It took me a second to realize that it was Ivy and not Mom standing there, pinning me against the wall. “You could have killed her!” she shouted. I didn’t hear her but watched her lips move as she said it. And as the seconds passed, the fog cleared and I could hear her, an ombre voice rising.
“Adora!” she shouted, squeezing my arms. “Why would you do that?!”
The heartbeat on the monitor filled the room like the pounding in the ocean. She was still alive.
I wrestled out of Ivy’s arms. “She’s suffering!” I cried, trying to pry her fingers from me. “We can’t leave her like this. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Twenty minutes later, Ivy and I were standing in the kitchen.
Neither of us had spoken for at least ten minutes.
Ice frosted the kitchen window, making everything on the other side of it blurry, like a fun mirror.
Ivy slid a cup of vanilla rose moon milk across the island in front of me. “First Kane, now Mom...” she leaned against the counter. “Why are you so hell-bent on throwing your life away?”
“If only you could see what I see.” My voice was monotone, and I didn’t look at her when I said it.
“I believe you, but you will not be the one,” she stressed, anchoring her full attention to me. It was heavy, forcing me to look at her. “Promise me, Adora. Promise me you will never do anything like that again.”
“Promise.” I said it too easily, not even believing myself.
When she sighed, her breath fluttered her black hair laying over cheek. “Geez, murder, Adora?” Her expression hardened, disappointment in her eyes. “If you had just talked to me.”
I stepped closer to her. “I tried,” I said, then stopped and listened for Dad or Fable in the house. I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Something is seriously wrong with me, and I’m scared, okay? I’m sleepwalking, being mean, callous, nasty thoughts inside my head. I want it to stop. It’s like there’s all this hate inside me, and I don’t know where it's coming from. So, yeah if anyone knows what Mom went through, it’s me. She doesn’t deserve this.”
“Maybe we should go to the coven.”
And I wished I could trust my coven. However, as long as Augustine Pruitt ran Sacred Sea, I could never be proud of it. Leaving the coven wasn’t an option either. Sacred Sea was my family, and the only way to make sure things would get better was to stay.
“Look at what they did to Mom. What do you think they’re going to do to me if they find out? Especially after Augustine just sentenced Kane in the cell for six months. If he finds out it was my fault, my punishment will be worse.”
“Cyrus would never let anything happen to you.”
“Even in murder? Do you think Cyrus, the most honorable man in Weeping Hollow, would protect me then?” I asked, and she didn’t answer. “Ivy, last night, he could have fought harder for me, but he didn’t. Not that I need him to fight my battles, but it would have been nice to know he would have done anything. But he didn’t. It’s like he froze up.”
Ivy’s brows scrunched together. “That’s not like Cyrus.”
“I know.”
“Could it have anything to do with the Heathen who showed up and got on his knees for you? The one who was looking at you at the meeting like he was about to launch across the room at any second.”
“A Heathen?”
“Don’t be coy, you know exactly who I’m talking about.” She set her mug down, her eyes burning a hole in me. “The same Heathen I had to hear about from Cyrus, and how you left with him. The same one you failed to mention this morning.”
I hid my mouth behind my moon milk. “Oh, you mean my husband.”
She glanced up at the ceiling, a dubious smile sailing across her lips. “That’s not funny.” But then it got quiet. When she realized this, she looked back at me. “Adora?”
The room turned serious. “Clarence performed the ceremony last night.”
Her gaze dropped to the ring on my finger, and she swiped my hand from the counter. “Oh, god. What did you do?” She spun it, seeing Stone’s name engraved into the ring. Her voice and fingers began to shake, and the vein popped in her forehead, terrified tears flooding her eyes. “Adora,” she cried. “Please, this is not funny. Tell me you’re joking.”
“I can’t,” I whispered, unable to look her in the eyes any longer. “I found Stone on the beach half-dead and we spent almost two months together before either one of us knew he was a Heathen. But it was already too late, Ivy. I was already in love with him.”
Her palm struck my cheek, stunning me.
It caused me to step back.
I cupped my face, and my gaze darted back to her.
She’d never hit me before.
It stung as water welled in my eyes.
Tears were raining down her face.
And we just stared at each other.
She cupped her mouth. “What have you done?” she cried, shaking her head. “You married a Heathen, Adora. Why would you do that?”
“Because I’ve felt nothing but anger and hate inside me, and for the first time ever in my life, I imagined a future, a marriage, children, a life. And I only see it with him ... because he makes me so happy,” I cried. “And I want that, Ivy. I want that so badly with him.”
The doorbell rang.
Neither of us moved to answer it.
And then there were three pounding raps at the door.
“Whoever it is isn’t leaving,” Ivy sniffled, hurrying to wipe her tears. “Don’t go anywhere.” And then she left the kitchen.
I clutched my mug tightly between my hands, my fingers turning white, wondering if I’d just made a terrible mistake by telling Ivy. And when the kitchen door swung open again, Ivy quickly closed it to a standstill, then turned toward me with wide eyes.
“Viola and Augustine are here,” she whispered. “They’re looking for you.”
“What?” My heart started to slam inside my chest. “Ivy?”
“They said they need to talk to you about what happened last night. They promised they just wanted to talk.” Ivy took my hand. “You cannot tell them about Stone or the marriage, okay? Just pretend it didn’t happen.”
Pretend it didn’t happen? “What if Norse Woods can protect me?”
“Dammit, listen to me,” she whisper-shouted. “You were ordered to marry Cyrus. Now keep your mouth shut and give me your ring.”