Page 6 of The Darkest Knight

When I step inside the apartment, the familiar smell of Aunt Scarlett’s cooking greets me. But the sight of my mom, frail and pale in her chair, breaks my heart.

“Mom!” I rush over, stopping myself just short of hugging her too tightly. Instead, I rest my hands on the arms of her chair and lean in to kiss her cheek.

Her voice is soft but warm. “Hi, sweetheart. How was work?”

I sink to the floor beside her chair. “Busy, as usual. Jett has me running around like crazy and doing a million things.”

She smiles faintly. “Still working you hard, is he?”

I nod, brushing my hand over hers. Her fingers feel thinner than I remember. Her eyes look more sunken. “He brought me lunch, though. From my favorite deli.”

“The one with the pastrami sandwiches?” Aunt Scarlett chimes in, walking into the room with her ever-present energy.

“That’s the one,” I say, grinning. “Sorry I didn’t save you any.”

Aunt Scarlett waves it off, but Mom’s gaze softens. “That was thoughtful of him.” Her voice is tinged with something I can’t quite name.

“He’s still my boss. Mom! Don’t turn this into ahe’s secretly a good guything.” She seems to think Jett Knight is a knight in shining armor, even when I've told her how arrogant he can be, and demanding, and impatient. She always reminds me of the bonuses he's given me, the pay raises, and how, lately, he's been so accommodating regarding her illness. He often tells me to take time off without marking it as a vacation day, especially when I need to leave early or go in late due to hospital appointments.

“He might be,” she says simply, but there’s a knowing glint in her tired eyes.

Aunt Scarlett snorts. “Men like him don’t do thoughtful without a reason.”

“Thank you,” I say, relieved someone sees it my way.

But Mom just smiles again, her gaze drifting somewhere far away.

A soft knock at the door pulls us from the moment. Aunt Scarlett rises to answer it, and I glance at my phone. No texts from my friends.

Aunt Scarlett returns with them in tow. “Surprise!” she announces.

“But I cancelled—” I exclaim.

“We thought you might,” Aunt Scarlett says with a grin. The girls are already bounding in, hugging me and fussing over my mom. “I don’t want you changing your plans on account of me,” mom says.

"You've just had an IV transfusion!" I protest.

"Life has to go on, Cari." My mom’s voice is soft and thoughtful, but I feel like there's a message in there somewhere. Like she's trying to prepare me for the worst, which I won’t accept. No way.

Eliana shrugs, her chestnut brown curls fall over her shoulders like a cape. “Aunt Scarlett called and said you needed some fun. We’re going out.” It’s funny how my friends have taken to calling her Aunt Scarlett, too.

“I didn’t—” I stop myself. Of course they’d conspire behind my back.

The girls’ chatter fills the room, lightening the mood. Bianca plops onto the couch, raking her hand through her short blue hair, and my gaze takes in the butterfly tattoo on her wrist. Eliana perches beside her. For a moment, I watch them with my mom, grateful for their warmth.

But when the time comes to leave with them for dinner, I hesitate.

“Go,” Mom says firmly, squeezing my hand.

"But you made dinner," I wail to Aunt Scarlett.

"Why don’t we all have dinner here?" I suggest.

My mom doesn’t go out much. She's conscious of her fragility, and she's not thrilled by her thinning hair or sallow skin. She also doesn't have the energy to do much, but I'm hopeful that after a few months, her treatment will be successful and we can all go back to how things were before.

"I'd rather you go out with your friends, honey," my mom says.

"No, Mom, I want to stay with you."

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