Page 96 of Reign

Callie

The marbled flooring lurches beneath my feet. My vision shrinks to a pinprick, Sabine’s face at the helm. Chills pass along my skin, ants marching in single file until they reach their hill, apexed at the core of my heart.

“You had your mother’s blood on your hands when Mr. Kazmi found you that night,” Sabine continues, her voice a soft lullaby trailing across the hard stone walls. “Along with bruises consistent with your mother defending herself. Your uncle covered it up as best he could—even allowed you to accuse your stepfather of your crime.”

Breath lies ragged in my throat. “That’s not true!”

“Mr. Kazmi?” This time, Sabine cuts her attention in his direction. “Care to provide some background information?”

Ahmar’s throat bobs. He finds me in the small crowd, where even Tempest takes a step back, his brows arched in surprise.

Ahmar rasps, “Kiddo…”

“Oh my God,” I whisper. My legs ache to run, but there’s nowhere to hide. I’m blocked in, by marble and stone, by people, by guilt. “I refuse to believe it. I won’t!”

“He’d do anything for you, that man,” Sabine says, clucking her tongue. “You were the last remnant of Meredith Ryan, a woman he was terribly in love with.”

“Don’t,” I say, but my eyes ping to Ahmar’s, and they won’t leave.

She continues, the pain in my plea fueling her next words. “He saved you because he loved you like a daughter. Couldn’t bear to see you wilting away in prison. It’s not something Meredith would’ve wanted. Knowing that idiot whore, she likely would want you free, despite you slitting her throat. Because you’re sick, darling. Your delusions started well before your mother’s untimely demise.”

“I tried to help you, Calla,” Ahmar says. The words seem like they’re choking him. “I convinced your dad to put you in a psychiatric hold. I’d hoped they’d diagnose you and work with you to get you better, but all they did was release you. And I couldn’t … I didn’t…”

“Ahmar, I didn’t kill her!” I’m so resolute, my voice strikes through the room like a whip. “I’d remember something like that. I’d know if I hurt her. She was my best friend. My favorite person. My mom.” Shaking my head, I retreat, uncaring if my back hits the wall. It would feel more solid than the ground right now.

Ahmar drags his eyes to the report, still clenched between Sabine’s long, taloned fingers. “It’s all there, baby girl. I did everything I could to stop this from happening, but this place, these people … they dredge up the worst in us.”

“Our lies all have to catch up with us sometime,” Sabine says. “And time is up for you. If you leave this temple, I will send this report directly to the NYPD. You will be arrested, and so will your uncle. Therefore, it’s in your best interest to remain Virtuous. Stay by my side, do as I say, and this evidence will never leave the lips of a member.” She looks up to the rafters. “Are we in agreement?”

A chorus of voices ring out, “altum volare in tenebris.”

Fly high in the dark.

Sabine lowers her stare to mine. “You see, child, we live off the dark collateral of others. It’s how we keep everyone in such pristine alignment.”

My mind pendulums through the possibilities—did I really kill her, or am I making up the image of cornering my mother in her bedroom, wielding a chef’s knife in my hands, and piercing her skin?—

My shoulder slams into the wall and I slide down into a crouch, covering my face, moaning the denial even as remembered rivulets of blood seep between my fingers, staining my clothes and puddling at my feet.

Sabine’s faraway voice circles my head. “I think I’ve proven my point, my noblemen. My dear Virtues, even if she is who she claims to be and has the Briar bloodline…”

This is what they do. They use your greatest fear against you.

An inner voice speaks over Sabine, poking at my conscience, prodding me awake. Chase’s cadence echoes into my soul, the very words he used when trapped in a dark cage coming into the light of my eyes.

I blink.

Sabine’s using what I’m most afraid of. My fear of madness.

Because I did not kill my mother.

The certainty is etched into my bones.

Slowly, I stand. Push off the wall and stalk to the center of the temple, where Sabine, with her back turned, continues her propaganda.

“You’re the elite!” I scream at the balcony, cutting her off. “Faculty. Senators. CEOs. Parents. And you allow this woman to use your children for the sexual pleasure of men who are standing right next to you. My own biological father—Headmaster Marron. Yes, you heard me right—seduced my mother when she was a student and he was a teacher. This club of yours isn’t about rising high, it’s about using sex and getting away with scandal, and allowing your children to suffer at the hands of your so-called members. You’re all twisted and sick, the way you let her get away with this.”

“You’re forgetting an important piece of the truth you’re building,” Tempest adds, striding up next to me. He’d walked deeper into the temple but hasn’t donned his robe. Nor has the fire died out in his preternatural green eyes. “Calla Lily Ryan is a descendent of Rose Briar.”

---