Chapter 41
Violet
“We have to get out of here,” mum hissed, her fingers still clenched around the necklace for the past hour. “We’ll have to sneak out, leave before they realise we’ve gone.”
Distrust had flickered in her eyes each time Ryder moved, her attention darting between everyone that spoke with worrying fragility. So I’d taken her to the bedroom beside mine, thankful that Elena had already made it up.
Stress had always been the spark for her episodes, so I’d hoped that taking her out of the chaos downstairs might help settle her mind. But it didn’t.
Mum sat rigid in the armchair, a stiffness that looked painful.
With a deep exhale, she looked towards the window, out into the darkness. “How do I know if this is real?” she whispered, her voice cold, distant. “How do I know that you’re real? And that I won’t simply wake up, and I’ll be back there?”
“I’ve always been real, mum,” I replied, my voice soft as I kneeled beside the chair.
Her eyes were sharp when she looked down at me, her fingers finally relaxing to brush through my hair.
“You sent him to get me, didn’t you?” she accused. “You think I don’t know what’s going on?” Her tone wasn’t angry, so much as desperate. The fear behind it raw, real. “He’s convinced you to take me back, to take me to—”
“No, I’d never allow it.” I tilted my head, giving her more access to my hair. “I’ll never leave you again, I promise.”
The movement of untangling my strands was helping her stay calm, but I was worried she hadn’t been taking her medication. In such a short time she’d lost weight, her face hollowed, and her eyes shadowed as though she hadn’t slept.
“You were always such a needy child,” she whispered, her tone turning cold once more. “Desperate for my attention.”
My heart sank. “Mum…”
“Have you cut your hair?” Her eyes widened, fingers tightening until I felt pain along my scalp. “I’ve told you never to cut your hair, Violet.”
“Mum, tell me about the necklace,” I said gently, trying to keep the conversation on track. Sometimes it was effortless, and other times it was almost impossible. “I saw the picture of you wearing it a long time ago.”
Mum frowned, as if suddenly remembering the pendant she held in her other fist. Relaxing her hand, she opened her fingers, letting the necklace fall to the floor beside me.
“I have this secret,” she admitted quietly, her face blank even as her voice trembled.
“But Violet, biology doesn’t mean everything.”
My body went cold, white noise rushing in my ears. “What are you saying?”
It was silent for a long while. So long, I thought we’d gotten off track again.
Until finally, “I’m… I’m not your biological mother.”
“You’re not?” I had to concentrate, my mind spiralling into a million questions that would only derail her thoughts. “Where… who are my real parents?”
Mum’s fingers tightened in my hair a fraction before she finally let go, her eyes hardening on mine. “Stop looking at me like that, Violet. I’m fine; I’ve been taking the fucking pills. I’m not sick.”
“I never said you were.” I brushed away the tear from my cheek. “Please, mum, it’s just you and me here.”
“God, why are you making me say this?” she snapped. “It doesn’t matter. You’re mine, and that’s that.”
“Mine?” I echoed. “You talk like I’m property, not a living, breathing person.”
I dragged a hand down my chest, as if I could physically smooth out the tightness there. It didn’t, my heart racing violently behind my ribs.
“Who are my biological parents?” I asked again, this time a fraction louder. But she didn’t respond, so I jumped to my feet in a burst of frustration. “Oh my God. You always told me my dad died when I was a baby! That you were my only family!”
Mum’s head snapped towards me, eyes narrowed even as I began to spiral. “I’m your mother more than anyone else,” she growled, finally reacting. “I took you from—”
“Wait,” I interrupted, the room tilting. For a split second I thought I might be sick. “You took me?”
“I saved you.” Mum clenched her jaw, that familiar air of superiority creeping in. “I had no choice but to take you because if I hadn’t, you would’ve been hurt. You should be more grateful.”
“Grateful that you’ve lied to me my entire life?” I was beyond being calm. I needed to move, to do something—anything to bleed out the sudden energy buzzing under my skin as my world came apart.
“You don’t understand,” mum barked as she stood.
“No… no, you don’t understand.” The words splintered as they left me. “How can I… I don’t know.” I was struggling to calm down. “You lied to me this entire time, and I can’t—”
“Violet…”
“You’re my mum, and I…” I didn’t know what to think. I felt like I was drowning, and I didn’t know which way was up. My pulse roared in my ears, and I tried to draw in a breath, but it hitched halfway, sharp and useless. Panic surged in response.
She’d lied to me my entire life.
“Violet, please…”
Who the fuck was I?
Who the fuck was she?
“I had to, I had no choice!” Nails dug into my arm, the grip sharp enough to jolt me back into focus, forcing my gaze to hers. “They were beginning to look at you like they looked at me.”
It took a moment for her words to register. I blinked up at her through blurred, stinging eyes, trying to make sense of her expression. Of the fear carved so deeply into her face.
She wasn’t merely distraught. She looked fractured, broken in a way I’d never seen before, far worse than any episode she’d ever had. And that was the problem. She wasn’t having an episode; every word was clear of the demons that usually haunted her.
“And how did they look at you?” I asked, my voice cracking.
Her eyes were soft, sad. “Like I was nothing but a hole to use.”
The anger drained out of me all at once, leaving nothing but a hollow, echoing ache.
“You were just a baby,” she continued, her voice tight. “A toddler, and they started to look at you like… and I overheard they were…” She cleared her throat, as if it pained her to speak. “So I took you with me. And we’ve been running ever since.”
I swallowed, my hands shaking until I clenched them into fists. “Who are you really?”
Mum looked away, taking a moment to respond. “I’m no one. I’m as good as dead.”
Unlike mine, her hand was steady when she reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Warm and familiar.
She murmured, “I died when my own mother sold me to them at just ten years old. I died when they trained me, with the intention of selling me to the highest bidder.”
Every word was another knife to my heart. “Mum…”
“I died a hundred times over when I realised I wasn’t the only girl, or boy. So yes, I took you when I escaped.”
She looked at me expectantly, waiting for a response I didn’t know how to give.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” I finally settled on.
Mum closed her eyes, drawing in a slow, unsteady breath. “Because why would you believe me when the doctors didn’t? When they made me feel like it was all in my head?” Her eyes opened, tears glistening. “But it’s not, Violet.”
I sucked in a sob, forcing it back as my mind raced over her words to try and understand them. Mum had kept this secret for so long that it had broken her.
The anger I’d been clinging to began to falter, thinning into something heavier and more complicated. Her explanation didn’t erase what she’d done; it just made it more painful. “I believe you, mum,” I said at last.
Her smile trembled as she reached down for the chain, drawing the necklace up between us. “We’ve been running for so many years, my flower. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save us.”
“I…” The air caught in my lungs. “I just need a second.” To process. To think.
Mum’s eyes flashed, sharp with warning. “Violet…”
I shook my head and stepped back.
“Violet, please!”
But I was already moving. The door slammed shut behind me as I fled—and ran straight into Ryder. The impact almost knocked me over, but he caught me before I could stumble, his hands gripping my upper arms to steady me as I stared up at him, gasping.
My arms lifted instinctively, ready to shove him away. Ready to run again.
But instead, my fingers curled into his shirt, clinging.
He shouldn’t have been here. None of this should have been happening. But right now, I didn’t care. Not when everything I thought I knew was breaking apart.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly, grounding, as if he could feel me coming undone. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
But I couldn’t. “Don’t you dare tell me you told me so,” I managed, my arms trembling. Somewhere behind me, I could hear the distant sound of crying drifting from the room, but I refused to turn back.
This wasn’t something I could immediately forgive and forget. I needed time to figure it out.
Guilt gnawed at me for not believing her, but it was buried beneath a deeper resentment, thick and suffocating.
“I won’t,” he said, his infuriatingly calm voice cutting through the chaos in my head.
“You don’t get to tell me to forgive her,” I snapped. “Or to hear her out.”
“That doesn’t sound like me. That’s all you.” He hummed a soft laugh, his thumbs tracing slow circles over my arms. “My advice is to give her back.”
“Ryder!”
“It was a joke.” He rolled his eyes. “She’s your mum, Violet. No matter what she says, or what she’s done. I know you—”
“You don’t know me at all.” I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.
“I know you well enough to know you’ll forgive her,” he said quietly. “Because you’re so fucking good. You’re the sunshine in a storm.”
The words hit harder than I expected, and I couldn’t stand here and listen to it.
“I need a minute,” I rasped. “From you. From her. From everything.”