Page 84 of Roaring Flames

My mom is dead.

And my fathers…

Hale and Gerry exchange an uneasy look at my question. So simple, yet the color drains from both of their faces.

“We can tell you.” Hale seems to be choosing his words very, very carefully. He steeples his hands together and leans forward to rest them on his bent knees. “But we think it’s something they’ll want to discuss with you themselves.”

“They know I’m here?” I’m ashamed to admit that my voice comes out higher pitched than I intended.

The pounding of my heart is almost deafening, drowning out all other noise.

“They do.” Gerry dips his chin in concession. “And they want to meet you. Introduce themselves. Maybe start a relationship with you. Is that something you’ll want?”

The obvious answer should be yes. But…

I’ve been without a family for years now. I’m not sure if it’s better or worse to know that there are people out there who may have loved me. Who may have taken me in, instead of allowing me to become lost in the system. Am I ready to know them? I’m not sure. My brain already threatened to implode from the sudden onslaught of information.

Wolves. Golem. Magic.

“You don’t need to answer right away,” Hale rushes to reassure me, his expression so painfully earnest that my stomach twists itself into a pretzel. “But when you’re ready, we can make the introductions.”

That conversation was days ago.

I still am not ready.

Not even close.

I sigh heavily as I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror. I remember how excited I was to attend my first day of classes—my nerves intermixing with my exhilaration as I chose the perfect outfit.

Now I can’t find it in me to give a damn.

Depression is funny like that. It’s not entirely noticeable at first glance. You can adopt a smile, laugh at someone’s jokes, engage in conversation, but inside…you’re crying. Screaming for help. Extending a hand and just waiting for someone to grab it and haul you from the abyss. I never really understood why people call it the silent killer until now.

My life has changed so dramatically in the last few days, and it feels as if it’ll never go back to normal. Maybe I just need to accept that thisismy new normal.

Magic.

Wolves.

Witches.

Mate bonds.

Golems.

I can’t even imagine how Jake feels. He returned home a few hours after he left and retreated to his room. I haven’t seen him since.

Lissa still isn’t talking to any of us. She’s furious that we had a “private conversation” without her and demands answers. A part of me thinks she deserves to know the truth. Another part doesn’t want her to live through this pain.

When I arrive at school—having chosen to walk instead of accepting a ride with one of the others—I probably look as shitty as I feel. I catch a reflection of myself in the mirror of a parked car and inwardly wince.

I haphazardly threw my hair in a braid, but a few strands have come loose, framing my face. I wear a T-shirt and jeans that aren’t particularly stylish but are super comfortable. And I need that comfort today. It’s my battle armor.

The hallway is still empty when I step inside, which is perfect for what I plan to do.

I veer to the right and then continue down the hall until I reach the main administrative office.

The secretary glances up from her computer and offers me a sweet smile. “How can I help you, dear?”

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