Chapter 30 #2
“No.” Miles was trying to not think about it because it made an ugly sensation churn inside him. “She’s too scared.”
His aunt had come flying into the office after Charlee was attacked, taken one look at her daughter, and stumbled away in horror. Miles’s mom had chased after her and must’ve snapped her out of it, at least enough that she loaded the twins into her car and followed them to the hospital.
She hadn’t made it past the waiting room yet.
“You should go make sure she’s alright.”
A nurse had a hand on Robin’s shoulder, talking and gesturing down towards them.
He should, but they weren’t done here. Not even close.
Robin shook her head, blonde hair flying, and backed away. Miles could practically see the nervous breakdown looming over her.
“Go,” Gabriel told him. “We can talk more later. I’m not going anywhere.”
The unspoken yet hung in the air between them.
“Promise me.”
“Where would I go?” Gabriel said wryly. “I don’t have a car. It’s not like I’m going to run all the way home. Besides”—he glanced up at Miles—“I still have things I need to say.”
Goodbye, he meant.
Miles lurched to his feet, bile searing his throat. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. It couldn’t be over, not like this.
He just needed time to think, to gather his thoughts and find a way to convince Gabriel not to go through with his suicidal plan. There had to be a way.
But Aunt Robin first. He could do that, get one thing right today.
“Hey.” He reached his aunt and took her arm from the grateful nurse. “C’mon, let’s talk out in the waiting room. Then we can see Charlee.”
She let him lead her back out, where the receptionist gave them a sympathetic look over her purple glasses.
Amy and Jenna were curled up asleep together on a sticky vinyl couch, their dad’s jacket draped over them.
No one else was in the waiting room aside from an older man with four empty coffee cups on the table beside him and a nervous leg jitter.
“Are you okay?”
Robin tugged at the collar of her oatmeal collared sweater, the neck stretched out and drooping.
“I—I thought I’d go check on her, but I froze.
I keep seeing myself lowering her into her grave.
I don’t know if it’s a premonition or my own mind trying to hurt me.
” Tears welled up in her bloodshot eyes.
“I can’t go through this again. I can’t bury anyone else. I’ll crawl into the grave with her.”
Her hysteria barged past Miles’s shields, grating against his nerves. His tongue was grainy and too big. It wasn’t a good idea to talk to her like this, his emotions exposed and raw. “You have to go in there and tell her that. Give her a reason to come back to us.”
“It won’t matter. She already knows.”
“Does she?” The words came out more piercing than Miles meant, a knife he hadn’t realized he’d sharpened. “Because I’m positive she thinks you couldn’t care less about her. And by refusing to go into that room, all you’re doing is proving her right.”
Aunt Robin recoiled, tears falling, but Miles couldn’t bring himself to regret his words. It was far past time someone said them. He should have in her room the other night, instead of dancing around it.
“I don’t know how to look at her without thinking about how horribly I failed her.
Without wishing I’d been the one to die in that crash instead of Shaun.
” She pressed her palms to her face, voice cracking.
“She’s my daughter, and I let her dad die.
Because of me, she lost the most important person in her life and that’s all I can see when I look at her. And now I’m failing her again.”
Miles had suspected, no matter how much Charlee insisted otherwise, but it didn’t feel good to be right. Nothing about this felt good. Charlee deserved to know her mom loved her, and Aunt Robin deserved the chance to redeem herself.
“Losing Uncle Shaun was… the worst thing to happen to all of us,” Miles told her. He had to move aside to let a stretcher go by, wheels squeaking. “I’ll never be able to imagine what going through that was like for you. But Charlee is still alive. And she needs you with her right now.”
A shuddering inhale wracked his aunt’s body, her frail shoulders quaking. “What if I’m too late? What if she dies?”
“She’s not going to die, okay? And when she pulls through this, she’ll never forgive you if you’re not there.
You’ll lose any chance you still had.” He grabbed her elbow and waited for her to look at him, trying to harden his expression.
“I need you to listen to me: put aside your own shit and show up for her, for once. You’re her mom.
You’re supposed to be there when she needs you the most. Protect her. Do anything you can to save her.”
She sniffled, wiping at her cheeks with a crumpled tissue she’d pulled from a pocket. Something must’ve resonated with her because she nodded, smoothing down the front of her sweater. “You’re right,” she croaked. “She needs me.”
“She does.”
Robin was barely holding it together, drawing from a well of inner strength he hadn’t realized she had. Fear radiated from her, but with determination and a sense of purpose.
“I need to take the girls home first.” Aunt Robin glanced over at Jenna and Amy, then at the clock mounted above the reception desk. “And pack a bag. Tell your dad I’ll be back to stay the rest of the night with Charlee.”
It didn’t make up for the years of pain she’d dragged Charlee through, but it was a start. Hope bloomed to life in Miles, warring with despair from his conversation with Gabriel.
He hugged her, careful not to jostle his sling-arm. Her perfume tickled at his nose, familiar and comforting.
Getting through to his aunt should’ve made him more confident that he could change Gabriel’s mind, but it only made him understand with thunderous certainty that he couldn’t. Gabriel was doing what Miles had demanded of Robin—protecting them. Doing the only thing he could to save them.
If Miles was going to save him from himself, he’d have to do it first.
A plan formed in his mind. A dangerous, risky plan. He needed to go now, before Gabriel realized he was gone.
Leaving Aunt Robin to wake his drowsy sisters and Gabriel waiting in the hall, Miles slipped over to the elevators, calling Emily on the ride down.
“Yeah?” she answered groggily.
“Did I wake you up?”
“Kinda.” She yawned. “I got back from homecoming not long ago; we made the stupid decision to go for late-night shakes after the dance got boring. It was a long night.”
“Sorry, but I have a huge favor to ask you.” The elevator doors opened to the dimly lit parking garage. “No pressure, but it’s literally life or death.”
“I’m getting out of bed right now,” she said, sounding much more awake. “What’s up?”
Charlee’s car was right where his dad had parked it, crookedly taking up two spots, doors left unlocked in their rush.
His parents’ SUV was a no-go—all the windows shattered by the shadow monster—so they’d piled into Charlee’s car.
Its keys were currently still with his dad, but Miles only wanted his backpack.
“Is there any way you can come get me? I’m at the hospital and need a ride.”
“The hospital? What happened?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here, but I need you to hurry.” He climbed into the backseat, digging out his bag from where he’d left it after the football game.
“Miles, I don’t have a car or a license. I only got my learner’s permit, like—” Emily cut off. “You know what, I’ll figure it out and be there soon.”
“You’re the best.”
Tucking his phone away, he unzipped his bag.
The containment box was still there, nestled beside the heart-jar and scarf-wrapped knife.
Regret nipped inside his chest— he should’ve had the knife on him, should’ve stabbed the mass of shadows the moment it appeared.
Maybe he could’ve stopped all this from happening.
The metal of the containment box burned against his skin as he wiggled it free.
Gabriel didn’t think Felicity would care about the grimoire enough to barter for it, but if it had its barbs sunk into her as deep as Miles suspected, it would fight to save itself, influence her, control her if it needed to.
If he offered her an exchange, threatened to destroy it if she refused, she’d have no choice but to accept.
Once she’d helped him save Charlee and Edmund, and promised not to touch Gabriel, he’d destroy it anyway.
No grimoire, no curse. It was his only shot.
Miles opened the box—and his stomach dropped.
The grimoire was gone.