Chapter 5 Smoke and Mirrors #2
He nodded, folding his hands. “You chose well.”
“She chose me,” I said before I could stop myself.
His expression shifted. “Did she now?”
“I’ve been reading more about her,” I said. “There’s something strange about the way the name Kore keeps appearing. And then you brought it up today…”
“Nothing I do is without reason,” he said, voice just above a whisper.
I should have ended the conversation and fled, but something held me in place. Not just the pull of him, but something else. A compulsion I didn’t trust.
His gaze dropped to the book I clutched against my chest, then rose again to my face.
“Callista,” he said. “Her works are few and far between. But having that means you’re closer than you think.”
I blinked. “Closer to what?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, his lips curved into the faintest smile. My eyes caught something glinting near his hand.
A silver coin.
Old and worn, catching the weak afternoon light. A pomegranate on one side, split open, seeds spilling out like drops of blood. The coin radiated something I couldn’t name. History or significance, I couldn’t be sure. My fingers itched to touch it.
“That coin,” I started, voice catching. “Where did you—”
The classroom door opened. I turned, expecting the next wave of students. My stomach bottomed out instead.
“Mom?”
Candace Blumenthal stood in the doorway, her face tight with barely controlled worry. She wore a crisp pink blazer, pearls, and heels that clicked against the floor as she crossed the room—the very picture of a Corporate American CEO.
“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Oh gods, this is not happening.
“Why haven’t you been returning my calls?”
My face went hot.
“We are not having this conversation right now,” I hissed under my breath, glancing helplessly at Professor Ward.
He kept his expression neutral as he took a step back, glancing between us warily.
I shot him an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. Excuse me.”
“Melanie Cora,” My mother’s voice was quiet, but it cut through the room. “We need to talk. Now.”
Mortification struck me hard at the use of my full name in front of the Professor—the entire universe. Maybe Persephone was on to something. The Underworld suddenly sounded very appealing.
Mom’s suspicious glare flicked to Professor Ward for just a moment, then back to me. She turned and walked into the hallway, heels clacking sharp against the tile.
I stole one final glance back.
Professor Ward was watching me leave, his expression unreadable as he pocketed the coin.
Once we were outside the classroom, I spun to face her. “What are you doing here?”
“My daughter hasn’t spoken to me in weeks.” Her voice was controlled, but I could hear the tremor beneath it. “And I had to find out from a barista that you fainted yesterday?”
My jaw tightened. “I’m fine. It was just low blood sugar or something.”
“Don’t you dare dismiss it.” Her voice dropped, anger and fear making her voice shake. “You know your history. You can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist. And after what happened to your Aunt Reenie—”
“Don’t.”
Mom’s face pinched, and for a moment she looked like I’d struck her. But I couldn’t help it. Reenie’s name was a bruise I couldn’t stop pressing.
Mom had hovered over me for months after Reenie passed. Every cough was cancer. Every headache, a tumor. Every moment I wasn’t under her watchful eye was a countdown to disaster.
“I’m not Reenie,” I said, quieter now but no less firm. “I’m not dying. I’m just tired and busy and trying to figure out who I am without you watching every breath I take.”
For a moment, I thought she might argue further. Instead, she pressed her lips together and nodded, her hands gripping her purse as though it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Fine,” she said. “Then let’s have dinner tomorrow night. Somewhere quiet. You and me. No interruptions.”
I hesitated. Saying no would only make this worse.
“Okay,” I relented. “Tomorrow night. But I have to study afterward, so it can’t be an all-night interrogation.”
Mom’s shoulders relaxed. She nodded. “Deal. I’ll text you the restaurant.”
She turned and walked away, heels clicking down the hallway. I let out a long breath and leaned against the wall, staring at the cracked tile floor.
I needed a reset. Some semblance of normalcy.
I found Luz and Amy sprawled on the concrete steps outside the student center, a half-eaten bag of chips between them. Leo balanced on the edge of a planter bed nearby, cracking jokes that had Amy clutching her sides with laughter.
Luz spotted me first. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Persephone herself, returned from the Underworld.”
“Barely,” I muttered, dropping my bag. “And a fury in red bottoms followed me.”
Amy sat up straighter. “Mom showed up?”
“Candace showed up in the middle of my conversation with Professor Ward,” I explained, dropping onto the step beside them. “Full-named me in front of him and everything.”
Leo whistled low. “Brutal.”
“She’s impossible,” I said, grabbing a chip and crushing it between my teeth.
“She could calm down,” Luz said, shrugging. “But she’s always been like that when it comes to you.”
“It’s exhausting,” I grumped, leaning back on the steps.
“Look, I get it,” Amy said, her voice softening. “She’s suffocating sometimes.” She paused, shoulders tensing. “But if it wasn’t for her, May and I would have ended up in foster care when our mom died. She made sure we had a home, made sure May got into her dream school. At least she’s trying.”
The irritation settled into something more complicated, recalling years of Candace showing up, holding on, refusing to let go. Years of her making sure the people she loved stayed safe, especially after Aunt Reenie passed.
“I know,” I sighed. I glanced at her, a smile tugging at my lips. “She’d probably full name you in front of a cute girl.”
Amy’s face flushed bright red. “Oh my god, shut up.”
“Better she full name you in front of a cute girl than in front of your professor,” Leo teased.
I tossed a handful of chips at him, and we laughed.
Leo tilted his head, gaze bouncing between us. “Okay, but can we talk about how you two call her ‘Mom’ and Melanie’s over here like ‘Candace did this, Candace said that’?”
Luz snorted into her hand.
“It’s her name,” I muttered.
“It’s weird,” Leo said, grinning. “Like you’re filing a police report. ‘The suspect, one Candace Blumenthal, arrived at approximately fourteen hundred hours—’”
“Shut up,” I laughed.
Amy nudged Leo’s knee with her foot, grinning. “Leave her alone.”
“I’m just saying,” Leo said, hands up in mock surrender. “If my mom showed up and embarrassed me in front of a professor, I’d be calling her way worse than her first name.”
Amy rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. Then she tugged her sleeve back, showing us her wrist. A sleek black band hugged her skin, a sunburst etched into the center. “Oh! Did I tell you guys? I had my first session today.”
Leo leaned in. “For that study?”
“Yeah,” She tapped the tracker. “Brain imaging and response tracking. Totally non-invasive.”
“Mostly,” Luz added dryly.
Amy shot her a look, her smile dimming. “May’s tuition isn’t cheap. And neither is mine. Mom’s already done so much—I’m not putting it all on her.”
“Amy, she’s a literal CEO,” I said. “She’s not hurting for money.”
“It’s not about the money.” Amy’s jaw set in that stubborn way that meant she’d made up her mind. “It’s about not being a burden.”