Chapter 253: Bad People and Gravity
- RAYA -
We decided to move our discussion to the cabina Dex and I are staying in, and the whole walk here was made in stunned silence. My thoughts are frozen. I can’t... I can’t fathom how our mother is alive and here and with Dad. I can’t fathom any of it.
My emotions are in the same state. I can feel the happiness that wants to unearth itself, but I’m too shocked. And how could they do this? Why? It doesn’t make any sense.
When we all finally find seats on the deck around a patio table, I stare numbly at the beautiful woman sitting across from me. Rory was right. She has blonde hair. She has delicate blue eyes. There’s a refined air to her that satisfies a deep curiosity about what kind of presence she has. And I feel it—the tug in my heart toward her like it recognizes the person who was my warm, safe home for nine months.
She carried Rory and I. We were nourished by her. She endured the pain of bringing us into this world. But then she left us. Why? What greater hurt or betrayal is there than that?
Dad looks guilty with apologetic eyes and rounded shoulders. I’m not mad at him. I can’t be. I’m not sure there’s room in my body for the anger it would take to do this betrayal justice. I’m just... confused. And sad.
But Rory’s emotions are another story. I can feel her anger from where I’m sitting. It radiates off of her like fire is her core element, and our parents have just given her every reason for her to unleash it onto the world. The intensity of it is even greater than when she attacked Hansen. But she’s withholding it, likely waiting for a rebuttal to whatever story our parents are preparing to tell. It must be a good story, too.
"I can imagine how you’re feeling, believe it or not," Patricia says, staying composed although there is a visible undercurrent of strong emotion to her expression. She’s strong. That much I can see. She can keep her emotions under control. "It has been agony being apart from all of you."
Rory makes a feral noise to my right, but it doesn’t phase our mother.
"I don’t deserve the patience it will take to listen to the reasons why we did we what we did, but I want you to know it was a sacrifice for all of us. I wasn’t excluded in this. I was alone. Your father was alone with the secret, and you two were alone without the complete family you deserved."
"Why now?" Rory growls. "Whatever the reason for leaving, why return now? Today? And not weeks ago or years ago or years into the future for that matter?"
Patricia listens and then nods once to indicate she’s understood the question or intends to answer it. It’s so enthralling watching her that it almost feels like this is a dream. My mother is beautiful. And composed. And patient. And warm. But she left us.
"There were people—bad people—who were looking for me. I thought we were safe. I had been hidden long enough that it seemed safe to start a family when I met your father. But they found me after Rory was born."
She starts fidgeting with her hands on the table, and my focus goes to them. Her fingers are delicate with nails clean and groomed and not too long. The hands of a mother. Is there anything more sacred? Hers was probably my first touch, my first physical comfort found in life on this earth. The arms that held me, that soothed me, that fed me and put me to sleep.
The mention of bad people seems to have piqued Luciano’s attention even more than this whole mysterious situation already has. He leans forward, eager to hear the rest, though one arm is around my sister.
I’m vaguely aware that Dex is providing a ground for me, too, with a hand on my leg under the table. His is the touch that feels like home when the whole world has tilted on its side like it has right now.
"What bad people?" Rory scoffs like she doesn’t believe it.
The vague reference does sound like a story that would be told to children. It’s too general—too much like monsters under the bed. Rory and Luciano and Dex and I all know that monsters have names and faces and identities that solidify them into reality. We’ve met some of them, Luciano more than most.
"It’s hard to explain," Patricia says. "But I gather you have had some experience at least with the peculiarities of our... family. So maybe it won’t be that hard to believe."
"Peculiarities?" I ask, the question arriving automatically. What an odd word.
"Yes." Patricia’s gaze lifts, and I notice she’s now looking at the locket I’m wearing. "Things you can’t explain that have happened. Our little family had to split up, because it was what was necessary to keep you safe while you were young. I thought it was safe to finally come back..." Her brows furrow while she pauses, lost in thought. "But then things started happening. The car accident. Kenneth Rider. Rory being taken..."
"You knew about all that?" I ask, the frozen state of my thoughts starts to thaw. But now it feels like everything is growing fuzzy around the edges—like I’m moments away from falling into a daydream or drifting off to sleep.
"Of course," Patricia says. "I thought it was my fault for returning. That’s why I didn’t... come to you. I didn’t want to make it worse."
"Make it worse?!" Rory exclaims, chuckling at how ridiculous she obviously thinks that possibility is. "How? How could your presence make it worse? This just all sounds like excuses to me. Excuses of cowards who are having to face their mistakes."
"Rory!" Dad leans forward, voice harsh. I’ve never heard him sound like that. "She’s telling the truth. I’ve seen it myself."
"Why would you being with us make it worse?" I ask, trying to remain calm and logical and... things I don’t feel at all. "Please explain."
"Because it’s like gravity," she says, face drawn. Suddenly she looks so tired and defeated. "These things follow me, and I didn’t want it to touch you. I thought maybe enough time had gone by..."
"So are we talking about bad people or gravity? I’m confused," Rory interrupts sarcastically with a deep scowl.
"Both," Patricia says on a sigh. "But the good news is... I think the two of you have found the answer to defeating both. Both the magical draw of trouble and the people who might want to come after you for whatever ability might have been passed down."
"Ability?" Rory asks, again with a scoff. But this time it’s weaker... like maybe she’s starting to sense that there’s something to what Patricia is saying.
"What answer?" I ask, finding this to be the most important part. If there’s an answer we’ve discovered, then I want to know what it is so that I don’t risk losing it.
This causes Patricia to smile. Both her and Dad look at Dex. Then their gazes are almost simultaneously drawn to Luciano.
"What?" The stunned question leaves me just as I feel Dex thread his fingers through mine.
"I don’t think the people after us will risk messing with the mafia," Patricia says. "Which makes me genuinely curious. How did this all happen so quickly? What brought you all together?"
I look at her questioning eyes, eyes that look so much like mine, and think about the answer. About the dreams that haunted me without end for days before the man who starred in them showed up at my work. About the car accident. Kenneth Rider spying on me. Dex inviting me to stay with him. The dreams we shared...
Patricia watches me while all these thoughts run through my mind. "It wasn’t just a simple meeting, was it?" She asks. "Was it perhaps... dreams that brought you together?"
