Page 78 of War Games

I ran from her. I ran from Subira. I ran out of the room, ran from Niko’s home, and escaped to the forest, running at full speed, unable to stop.

He never hit me.

When I felt deep enough, secure enough in the dark trees, I sank down.

He never hit me.

Who hit me?

No one hit me. I don’t remember being hit by anyone.

I heard the werecat before I saw it.

It wasn’t alone. Subira had followed me, her scent full of guilt and sorrow.

“Don’t bother with that,” she ordered, pointing at the werecat with her eyes on me. “It’ll protect you only so far before it ruins you.”

“I…”

“Let me tell you what I know to be true. Don’t keep running. You’ll get lost, and that will make this harder for us… and then we could lose you entirely.”

I so desperately wanted to keep running, but Subira stood right in front of me, looking ready to grab me if I tried.

“When you became a werecat, Hasan told me, and I was too curious. You see, I raised all of my children until that point from their younger years. Some were much younger than others, but they were all children when they came into my life.”

Subira knelt in front of me, and I couldn’t help looking up and seeing the werecat hovering there, just waiting for me to try to run from everything again. The next time, it would help me escape her if I couldn’t face what she had to say.

“I took a small sample of your blood and looked through your memories, the ones you had at the time. Of course, I don’t know everything since then.”

“What? That spell you talked about doing for the boy?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew right here…” She touched her heart. “That you were my daughter, and I wanted to know you, but you weren’t ready to know me. You know that.” Her hand dropped. “I also wanted to know why and how the world kept you from me and Hasan for so long. I have never believed in fate or destiny, but something in me ached that I hadn’t been able to see you grow up. So, I watched you grow up through your memories.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t fault her. I wished every day that I had met Carey sooner, gotten to see the eleven years she wasn’t in my life. My heart said she wasmine, but I hadn’t always been thereto help her to be as close to a mother as I wanted to be. I craved stories of those days I hadn’t known her.

“Yes, and let me tell you with certainty that you remember,” she said softly. “You certainly remember… but I understand why you don’t want to.” Subira reached up to wipe her eyes.

“I’m scared,” I whispered, shaking.

“Me, too,” she said, holding out her hand.

I took it.

“Can you lead us there?” I asked, swallowing.

“I think you already know what to think of.”

I did.

Someone had hit me.

The watercolor memories changed.

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