Page 22 of Shattered Jewel

Mom mutters under her breath, lowering the gun slightly as she retreats into her head.

I hesitate, desperate to ask her more, to understand the giant skeleton my family has kept hidden. But more questions will only agitate her fragile mind.

Sasha touches my arm, nodding toward the door. “We need to get her help. You can’t do this by yourself anymore, El.”

“But I…” I wrench my stare from Sasha back to my mother, who no longer responds to us, lost again in her cursed world.

She was forced into this breakdown, I want to argue. Someone was actually here, going through our things, scaring the shit out of my mother, breaking her where she was already fractured…

The argument turns to ash in my throat.

Tears slip down my mother’s cheeks as she stares at spirits I can’t see, the gun dangling in her hands. It doesn’t matter who incited her tonight. Sasha could’ve been hurt. Killed. Mom could’ve killed me, too, and she’d never recover from that.

“I love you, Mom,” I whisper.

She doesn’t respond.

Sasha tugs at my arm, a pained grimace on her face. “How do we—I mean, can we leave her here with the gun while we call the EMTs? Or do we … take it?”

I gently pull out of Sasha’s grip, taking another step, then another, until I’m close enough to reach out and touch Mom.

“Give me the gun, Mom,” I say softly, holding out my hand. “You don’t need it anymore.”

She lifts her gaze, and for a moment, I see a flicker of the woman she used to be—strong, loving, fierce in her devotion. Then her eyes cloud again, and she shakes her head.

“No, no, I have to protect you. From them. From the Court. They’ll come for you like they came for your brother, your father...”

Fighting to keep my composure, I push away the burning questions threatening to consume me. I have to focus on the present, on getting the weapon out of her hands.

“I know, Mom. And you have protected me all these years. But now it’s my turn to protect you.” I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “Give me the gun, and let me take care of you.”

A heartbeat passes, then two. Mom’s eyes search my face, as if looking for a sign, a reason to trust. I let her study me, pouring all my love, all my desperation, into my returning stare.

The door creaks behind me, and I stiffen as someone else’s footsteps calmly wander in.

No. Not when I was getting through to her.

I risk turning, meeting the eyes of the person ruining everything?—

—is it him? Is it the burglar dressed in black?—

And see Kaspian dressed in his impeccable suit, holding a polished handgun and directing it at my mother. “Kaspian? What the—Get out! Stop pointing that at my Mom!”

His flat, snake-colored stare regards my mother. “Put down the gun, Caroline.”

Mom screams, spittle flying onto the barrel of the gun as her grip tightens and shakes madly.

“You’re one of them!” she shrieks. “Here to take me, to silence me like you did Darian and Maverick!”

Then I do something stupid. Mind-numbingly dumb. But I can’t stand by and watch Kaspian, who shouldn’t be here, doesn’t belong here, threaten my mother.

I position myself between them, Kaspian’s gun at my chest, my mother’s at my back.

“Oh, Jesus fuck,” Sasha cries out.

The skin around Kaspian’s eyes reacts with a minuscule flinch at my boldness, that I’m now staring down the barrel of his gun, but his aim doesn’t waver.

Kaspian’s finger curls around the trigger. “Last chance, Caroline. Drop your weapon.”

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