Page 54 of The Devil's Dilemma

“What’s the name of that big festival? You know the one I mean. The one run by the farmer.”

“Glastonbury?” I didn’t think it’d been going that long, but it probably had.

“Yes. That’s the one. He met her there and brought her back home. I’d never seen a man so besotted.”

“What do you know about her?” Dante edged closer to Grandpa.

“Why all the questions?” For the first time since I’d walked in, Grandpa looked worried, glancing between me and Dante.

“It’s okay. You can tell him what you know,” I reassured him, as he got easily confused.

“She had no family. Only us, and when Austin arrived, she said her life was complete. She was a wonderful mother.” His eyes misted over, as did mine. Especially after my earlier dreams.

“I hate to ask.” Dante looked down at his hands, and I knew what he was going to say.

“Then don’t,” I snapped. “Can’t you see how upset he is?”

“You know how important this is. Don’t for one minute pretend you don’t want to know too.” He was right. I did want to learn about how she’d passed.

“She got sick. One minute she was fine. The next she was complaining of a headache. I’d seen no one take ill as quickly asshe did. She went to bed. Austin here didn’t want to leave her, but he had school the following day, and she said she’d be fine.”

Grandpa looked over at me, an apologetic smile on his face. Did I want to know the rest?

“Philip, my son, sat with her. I stopped by a few times, but she was always sleeping. She looked pale and weak. Had I known she was so ill, I’d have called an ambulance. I regret that decision to this day.”

He dragged a hand down his face, rough hands scraping down his whiskers.

“Then he came downstairs and said she’d gone. I didn’t think he meant literally, but when I went upstairs, she’d disappeared. I questioned him, and he told me what he knew. I never told you this, Austin. You were already distraught, so I didn’t see a reason to make things worse. You were only six.”

“What do you know, Grandpa?” My pulse raced. What was it?

“He told me she was an angel. She’d said her work was complete. You were her work, Austin. The moment she gave birth, she became more fragile. You won’t remember, but she was slipping away from us slowly, and that night, she vanished from our lives forever.”

“Did no one ask where she’d gone?” I couldn’t believe that no one had noticed.

“Only us. No one else remembered her ever being here.”

That couldn’t be right. She’d taken me to school, met my teachers. I’d had friends around for birthday parties. How could no one remember her?

I walked into the kitchen and tipped the now-cold tea down the sink.

I leant against the counter, tears filling my eyes. She was as fucking real as anyone. She was my momma. I hadn’t imagined her.

A hand on my shoulder startled me. I spun around, expecting to see Grandpa, but it was Dante, a look of concern on his face.

“Why did you have to come here and bring this up?” I swiped at the tears.

“You know why. I needed to know more about you and why we’re linked.”

“We’re not fucking linked. I don’t care what she said.”

He took a step back, giving me some space.

“When did she say, but more to the point, what did she say?”

“Nothing.” I stepped past him, but he laid his muscular hand on my arm.

“You and I need to talk. We’ll make sure your grandpa’s okay. Then you’re coming back with me. It’s not safe for you out here.”

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