Page 181 of Visions & Shadows

Mom pulls slightly back, and as her gaze drifts over my face, a happy smile spreads around her mouth. “You look just like your father.”

My chin trembles, and my voice is hoarse with guilt as I whisper, “I’m sorry Dad and Roark died because of me.”

She shakes her head, her features tightening with sorrow. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. They died honorable deaths.”

She hugs me to her chest again and sucks in a quivering breath. “You and Brenna have returned safely to me. I’m thankful for that.”

When she lets go of me again, she reaches a hand out to Brenna and gives her arm a squeeze. “You’ve both made me so proud.” She glances down the corridor, then says, “Come. You must be exhausted.”

“We are,” Brenna mutters. “I’m going to clean up. I’ll see you at dinner.”

When Brenna walks to the stairs and takes them up to another floor, Mom keeps staring at me.

She lifts a hand to my hair and brushes her fingers through the short strands.

“I had to cut it,” I whisper.

“It will grow back.” She gives me a trembling smile. “I missed you so much, Alchera.”

When the urge to cry swells in my chest, I swallow hard.

“Do you remember me?” Mom asks, her voice hoarse.

I nod, then suck in a deep breath, trying to calm the overwhelming emotions.

“We’ll make new memories,” she says as she brushes her hand over mycheek. “But first, you need to rest.”

She takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. When we near a doorway, Mom says, “We didn’t change anything in your room. It’s exactly as you left it.”

My room.

I stop in the doorway, and my eyes flick wildly over the single bed with warm pelts. There are stars made of paper hanging from the ceiling, a wooden dressing table, and a three-legged stool.

On the dressing table, there’s a hairbrush and dried flowers standing in a clay vase.

I take a step inside, then my eyes land on the doll that’s made of fabric with wool for hair. I move closer, and when I pick up the doll, Mom says, “You never went anywhere without her.”

I look at the brown freckles on her face and whisper, “Freckle.”

“You remember her?” Mom asks, her tone hopeful.

“I think so.”

I set her down on the pillow and turn to face my mother. Looking at the pale blue dress she’s wearing with a leather corset, I have to admit she’s more beautiful than I remember.

The awkwardness gets worse, and feeling out of place, I glance around the room again.

“I’ll leave you to freshen up and get some rest. When you’re ready, I’ll be in the sitting room.”

I nod, giving her a nervous smile. “Thanks.”

“Dinner is at sundown in the dining room,” she mentions as she walks into the corridor. “You can tell me all about your adventures.”

Adventures.

I watch as she disappears down the corridor then shake my head.

None of what I went through was an adventure.

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