Page 160 of Chemistry: The Chemist

At the mention of Egypt, I’d lost all my composure. It didn’t exist. It never had with her. That lone fact angered me more than the Priest had with his statement. The thought of them having harmed her had me foaming at the mouth. The realization that I had yet to dismiss my feelings for her had me brimming with anger.

“You never let me finish,” he told me.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

“She needed to be taken care of. We had every intention, but the hit was called off. We were forced to abort the mission.”

“We don’t abort missions,” I reminded him. “Why was it called off?”

“Because she is in possession of something precious to The Triad of Ara. Something we are unable to interfere with, no matter what she’s done.”

“What does she have?”

“A possible heir.”

My heart sank into my stomach.

The meeting continued long after I’d been struck in the chest several times and had ended only minutes ago. With each step I took toward my cell, my heart broke a little more. Choosing peace over the violence I wanted to ensure, I entered my cell and drug my feet toward my bed.

In a matter of minutes, I’d been reduced to almost nothing. For the third time in my life, my heart broke. It broke loudly. Rapidly. Painfully.

First my mother.

Then, Eden… Egypt.

And my father.

I laid my back against the sheets and folded my hands in front of me, resting one on my chest where it hurt the most.

“Pops,” I whispered.

My eyes pricked with saltiness. A single blink released the tears. Slowly, deliberately, they rolled down the sides of my face. They were a foreign concept to me. Since I’d been a teenager and received the news my mother had ended her life and Maurice’s just seconds before, I hadn’t shed a tear.

“Pops.” Lowly, I wept.

It was as if I’d been injured, physically and emotionally. Something sharp, big, and heavy pierced my heart. Something ruthless. Something inexplicable.

“Mom.”

Catherine.

Maurice.

My fear of being a parentless child, even in adulthood, had come to fruition. Losing my father was an overwhelming fear of mine and it had come to fruition.

Oh, Rhea.

The heartbreak she must’ve felt broke me some more. Tears flowed freely, unapologetically.

Roaman.

Covering my eyes, I began to weep into the sleeve of my shirt.

Rather.

Roulette.

Royce.

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