Page 110 of The Devil and His Sparrow

With a promise to return with him in tow, I quickly got to my feet and raced back out the door. My mind spun with thoughts of him, and my smile grew wider with each one. I couldn’t deny what I was feeling anymore. His saving Gemma made it all too clear, and it was time I told him.

The door to Bloomings shut behind me, and as I stepped off the sidewalk, it opened behind me again. “Iyla!”

I stopped midstep. The cloud I floated on nearly blew away, but not even the sound of Mom’s voice could destroy what had built inside me. I slowly turned and looked at her.

She searched me with a sort of caution and fidgeted where she stood by the door. “I wanted to speak to you.”

She’d said plenty the last time we spoke. I didn’t know what she could possibly add to hurt me at this point. Still, I didn’t say anything. I just stared at her and waited for whatever nonsense she had to say.

Clearing her throat, she looked down at her feet. I’d never seen my mom this out-of-sorts, this conflicted. She hugged her arms around herself and flicked nervous glances my way. I gathered pretty quickly that she was debating offering me a sort of olive branch. Yet … she said nothing. The words may have been on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t say them.

So I spoke.

“I’m going to play piano,” I declared as my smile found its way back onto my lips. I didn’t shy away from her gaze, duck my head, and my voice didn’t waver.

Her slender brows rose. “What?”

“I’m going to play piano,” I repeated, even stronger this time. “I’m not going into law anymore.”

“Iy—”

“And I’m dating Zagan,” I said. It was technically a lie, but it might as well have been the truth. Maybe it would be the truth once I got home.

Her eyes, which had been almost regretful, regained some of their usual sharpness. She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off before she could.

“I’m going to be happy, Mom. I’m going to do the things and reach for the things that make me happy. I’m no longer letting you take them away. I’m free.” I paused to take a deep breath. I smiled at her, and for once, no hurt hid behind it. “I hope you can find your real happiness, too.”

I turned on my heel and continued to Zagan’s car. Facing Mom like that, confident and sure of myself, added to the high I was already feeling. It was only after I’d left with those parting words that I realized I was okay. I was truly free of her and the pain she’d caused me. She couldn’t hold me down anymore.

When I got back to Zagan’s, I practically skipped across the threshold of the front door. “Zagan!” I called as I shut the door behind me.

The plinking of the piano filled the house, so with my grin still firmly set, I walked into the ballroom. Zagan’s eyes were focused on the piano when I found him seated there. He didn’t even seem to hear or notice me as he played some random set of keys.

When I drew closer, I repeated, “Zagan.”

His fingers stopped their mindless plucking, and he looked up at me. A softness filled his eyes. “Hey. Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. You went to see Gemma? How was she?”

I had to fight hard to contain my exuberance. I stepped closer and beamed, “She’s better. Completely better. It was you, wasn’t it? You … You healed her.”

He bit the corner of his lip near his piercing and looked away for a second. Swallowing hard, his blue human eyes found mine, and he nodded toward the piano. “You know, I finished writing that song yesterday. Can I play it for you now?”

The euphoria filling me fractured just a hair. Something in his tone gave me pause. He sounded almost wistful and melancholic, which wasn’t the response I’d expected. Not to mention, he hadn’t actually answered me. Still holding onto that happiness from earlier with a vice-like grip, I slowly nodded.

“I … I actually wrote this one for you.”

The confession drew me closer until I reached him. I sat down on the piano bench just as he began to play. The melody filling the room was soft and romantic. Even without the lyrics, emotion as potent as freshly opened champagne swelled inside my chest. It was like Zagan had filtered love right into the song, weaving it among the notes. Then he began to sing, and I found myself no longer looking at the piano but at him.

There was heart like I’d never heard behind his voice and in his words. Confessions of searching and coming up empty, of belonging to the darkness and not realizing he could have the light. The song piqued with a beautiful chorus as he sang about finding himself through what he never knew existed—love.

It was full of longing, full of want, and full of love, and he sang it with a certain desperation, like he was putting every bit of feeling into the song out of fear that he’d never get the chance to say them otherwise.

The urgency in his voice set off some primal instinct inside me, so when the song finished, all I could do was stare at him with tears in my eyes. I couldn’t focus on how beautiful the lyrics were or how the piece touched me where he’d made his home inside me. I couldn’t do anything, because I just knew.

Something was wrong.

When his eyes slowly lifted to mine, my stomach dropped with dread. Resignation. It pulled the edges of his lips down even as he tried to smile.

“What’s going on?” My own voice came out as barely a whisper.

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