Chapter 17 #2
“No, he won’t hurt you,” Aria says, offering a small smile. She snatches the bag out of my hands, and hesitantly walks over to Theodosia, allowing the girl to take it. It takes her a moment before she reluctantly reaches for it, glancing inside.
“What’s the money for?”
“Your grandparents are here,” I explain. “It’s for the ticket. You’re going home.”
“Just like that?” She chuckles, but her body’s betraying her. She’s still terrified, and at this point, I don’t think there’s anything I can say to ease her worries.
“Just like that.”
“No one would give this amount of money with no strings attached.”
I chuckle. She reminds me of Blair so much. Physical appearance aside, even their minds work the same way. Of course she’d be skeptical, after what she’s just gone through. There are a few visible bruises, and I plan on returning the favor to Raven.
“Let’s just say you have a guardian angel, Theodosia.”
“A guardian angel?”
I hum. “Yes.”
“Does this angel have a name?”
“Blair. Her name is Blair.” I say as a smile creeps across my lips.
???
The rain isn’t as heavy today. The drops are lighter, coming in less frequent, and this is the only time I have to do this.
Is it the smartest choice? No. But if I don’t do it today and stop prolonging it, the two truths will hit her at once, and it won’t be a pretty sight.
Mom’s arm is interlocked with mine, her hand tightly in mine.
She’s dressed warmly, even more than she should, but I’m not taking any chances.
I can’t have her get sick and risk her getting back into a hospital bed.
“Where are we going?” Mom asks, and her unsuspecting voice cracks something in me. Everything I’ve been feeling about this situation resurfaces, and it’s clear I’m not over it. In fact, I’ll never be truly over it.
“I… need to tell you something,” I almost choke on my words, swallowing a knot that forms in my throat. “And I don’t know how to do that, so I’m just going to show you instead.”
Mom squeezes my hand, swallows thickly and we continue walking in utter and complete silence.
The closer we get to the location, the more anxious I get.
She doesn’t have to ask me anything — she knows me all too well.
She knows the news I’ll deliver isn't good. And in her own way, she’s bracing herself for it.
It’s why the walk here is much slower than it usually would be.
Though, when she sees the massive oak tree on our property, she halts.
Aria probably doesn’t remember it, she was a child back then, after all, but Luna and I made a lot of memories here.
When we’d get grounded, this is where we’d be.
The amount of times we’d randomly meet in this place, without agreeing to it prior.
Another thing that makes this the perfect burial spot for Luna.
Although it’s symbolic, I know it will mean the world to Mom.
She stops when she sees the tombstone, and her entire body freezes for a moment. We’re still far from it, and she can’t quite read the name off it. The wind blows, swooshing her hair back, with one singular strand falling over her eyes.
“Who is it?”
I suck in a sharp intake of breath. “You’ll see. Come on.”
“I didn’t bring any flowers,” she says, voice trembling.
Just another way of trying to prolong the inevitable. It’s Noelle Campbell — her intuition is one of a kind. Not once has it failed her, and it definitely won’t start now. So, knowing Mom, she has a pretty good hunch of who the grave belongs to.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “She won’t get upset. Come on.”
Mom’s grip on my hand tightens, and the cold weather seeps through my clothes.
I’m not one to get cold easily, and this is more my anxiety than anything else.
This never should’ve happened, yet here we are, the direct consequences of my actions.
With a deep breath, I take another step forward, and Mom follows.
We walk in silence until we reach the little gate I’ve put up.
It’s in a deep shade of green, which was Luna’s favorite color when we were kids.
“No,” Mom whispers as she opens the gate, and steps inside. It’s silent for what seems to be an eternity. Her hand is shaking when she reaches for the tombstone, and within a second, she sinks to her knees.
I stay a couple of feet behind, feeling something tighten in my chest. Mom’s silent weeping pierces right through my heart, the way her body is quivering.
She’s hugging the cold stone, her forehead pressed against it.
Silence falls over us, and I can’t do anything.
There’s nothing I can say to lessen the ache she’s feeling, there’s nothing I can do to bring Luna back to life.
All I can do is stay here, offer my support, and wait for the inevitable questions to come.
“My baby,” Mom chokes out, her voice cracking. She pulls back a little, tracing the outline of Luna’s name with her fingers, trying to prevent her body from shaking. Tears slowly sliding down her cheeks, and the rain starts pouring. “Why did it have to be her?”
Her softly whispered question brings me to the brink of tears. She looks so broken, so lost, like her entire life has just stopped having a reason. The will to live diminished in her gaze, those big brown eyes suddenly taking a solemn, dead glint that will be impossible to remove.
“Mom,” I step forward, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“How did this happen?” She asks through gritted teeth. She hasn’t looked at me since she saw Luna’s name on the tombstone, and with a deep breath, I crouch down next to her, my knees getting dirty from the wet, muddy grass.
“Luna… she was Nelson’s wife.”
Mom’s head snaps in my direction, eyes slightly wide. They’re bloodshot, filled with unshed tears that are forcing their way out of the corners of her eyes, her cheeks stained with previous ones.
“She was under my nose this whole fucking time?!”
The screaming of her words throws me into the abyss of my demonic mind. The blame, the guilt, they all resurface, and if possible, it’s stronger than before. The way my Mother, the woman who is the epitome of strength, looks so broken is killing me on the inside.
“And… I killed her.”
The silence that follows is like someone’s piercing every single organ inside of my body with a ton of tiny needles, every bone in my body aching. Mom’s eyes are looking at me, and she’s hoping this is all a joke, that this is some sort of my sick, and twisted sense of humor.
But it’s not.
It’s the fucked up reality I’m living in.
“You did… what?”
I swallow thickly, shame and guilt evident on my face. My throat is closing up, and the words aren’t leaving my lips. I open my mouth, then close it. There are no words that could ever justify my actions.
No matter what the circumstances were, what I did is unforgivable, and unjustifiable.
“I killed Luna,” I repeat.
The words start to sink in, and her face tells it all. Her emotions range from disbelief and shock, to agony and anger. Her pale face doesn’t move, and her hands clutch the tombstone, her knuckles turning white.
“When?”
“It was right after you were shot.”
Her eyes close for a moment, and all the tears that she’s been holding back start flowing down her cheeks freely. She sucks in a sharp intake of breath, and the silence, the way she’s not responding to me is eating me on the inside.
“Please… say something.”
Her eyes snap open, and what I see paralyzes me to the bones. Not a single fucking emotion on her face, as if she managed to shove them all away, to lock them up inside of her and I don’t think a key even exists.
“Get the hell out of my face, Arlo.”